


Lost & Found || Harry Styles AU

by lisavslisa



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Death, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Grieving, Heartache, Heartbreaking, Implied Sexual Content, Loss, Lost Love, Love, Mild Sexual Content, Non-Famous Harry, Original Character(s), Romance, Sad, Tragedy, Young Love, finding love again, relationship, tragic backstory, widows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28293147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisavslisa/pseuds/lisavslisa
Summary: After her husband dies in a car accident, Emma Haines-Gaunt is encouraged by her mother and sister to attend a therapy group for widows. Though reluctant to even give it a try, Emma finds herself in a church basement listening to heartbreaking stories of tragedy from her fellow therapy members. When she notices a mysterious man during the session, Emma is intrigued by him, only to realize it is her childhood friend and ex-love Harry Styles. Her mind spirals when she realizes he must have lost his spouse somewhere along the way. And try as she might, she can't seem to shake him from her brain. The two of them begin a harrowing journey of loss and redemption, determined to help each other find solace in the tragedy that their lives have become.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. The tale of a broken girl

Emma wasn't sure about it. Actually, she was completely _unsure_ about it. Patrick had only been gone for six months. And she personally didn't think that six months was an adequate amount of time to mourn the loss of her husband. _Seriously_. Was there a time limit to that sort of thing? Did society really expect her to just all of a sudden one day be okay that she no longer had her husband, her best friend by her side? There wasn't anyone there to get her through the sleepless, lonely nights and it was crippling.

But of course, her mother and sister were only trying to help when they suggested she go to therapy. Therapy didn't sound all that bad to her, it was the type of therapy they proposed she go to. It was more or less a self-help group for widows. Emma was automatically opposed to the idea, but when they explained it focused on coping with being a single parent, she came around. Once they used her daughter in their plea, she knew she was a goner.

 _Madeline_.

She would do absolutely anything for her five-month-old daughter. She had Patrick's big blue eyes and his blonde hair. She looked just like his baby pictures, yet she never even got to meet her father. Patrick never got to hold her or love her. He never had the chance to be the father he always dreamed of being. And that was a tragedy in itself.

When Emma got the call that Patrick was in a car accident, she felt it in her bones – the grief. When she arrived at the hospital and they told her they did everything they could, but they weren't able to revive him, she felt it settle within her. Since that day, it never left her.

She was eight months pregnant and she was alone.

Her mother and sister flew out to London on the earliest flight they could, but nothing or no one could have prepared Emma for the loneliness. She couldn't even get out of bed. The only plea from her family that she listened to was to eat, for the baby's sake. She slept for days. She didn't want to be conscious.

There wasn't much she remembered from the funeral. It was a closed casket and the rain never stopped.

After the funeral, it was decided that Emma would move back to Holmes Chapel, but she was much too pregnant to make the trip right away. So her mother stayed with her in London to help her pack up the house and to be there for her postpartum. Emma gave birth not long after the funeral. Madeline was born and Patrick wasn't there. Madeline was born and she didn't have a father.

When her daughter was just a month old, Emma finally moved back to Holmes Chapel to live with her mother. She couldn't stay in London. In London, she was absolutely alone. In London, she only had memories of the man she loved, not even his body was there anymore. Patrick was buried in Northern Ireland, where he was from, where his parents still lived. Living in Holmes Chapel, at least Emma would be a little closer to him.

Over the past six months, she was a mess. But she always pulled herself together for Maddie's sake. She needed her mother. And Emma had to give her everything she had because she was the only parent her daughter had left.

"I'll come in with you, Em," her sister, Piper offered as they sat idle in the car outside of the church where the therapy meetings were to be held.

Piper promised the meetings were not held by the church itself, but by a group of counselors. The church was just the meeting place. Emma lost her faith after Patrick was taken away from her and she wasn't looking to find her way back to it. She didn't need God to help her through her grief. She didn't need God's forgiveness, _he_ needed hers. After all, he was the one that decided Patrick's fate.

"I'll be fine," Emma breathed, looking up at the cross that stood majestically on the top of the building. It was raining and all she could hear was the rush of the windshield wipers as they swished back and forth.

"Are you sure, Emma? I'd be happy to..." Piper insisted.

"I'll be fine," Emma told her again, still looking out into the rainy night, dreading stepping foot inside that building.

"Okay," Piper said quietly.

"Call me if—" Emma said, finally turning to face her sister.

"Maddie will be okay, Em. Mum raised both of us. I think she knows how to take care of her granddaughter," Piper pointed out. Emma nodded, but sat there silently.

"Patrick would want you to move on, Em. He'd want to see you happy again," Piper said, her voice low.

Emma closed her eyes tightly at the mention of her late husband. She took a deep breath, willing the tears away before they even started.

"Go," Piper coaxed. Emma nodded again and pushed the passenger door open.

"I love you, sissy," Piper told her.

"You too," Emma said before she got out of the car.

Emma stood in place for a moment, letting the rain fall down on her before she darted toward the awning over the large church doors. As Piper's car pulled away, Emma reached for the handle, pulling open the heavy door. The meeting was held in one of the Sunday school rooms in the basement of the church. It was almost fitting to see the children's art work and toys sprawled about the room, since they were all there for their children – to help their children through it as much as to help themselves. There were about fifteen other people in the room already and the counselors greeted Emma with welcoming smiles. She was the last to arrive, so they began the session right away after.

Not many people were in the mood to open up, including Emma. There were a lot of people that just sat wide-eyed as the counselors talked, but there were a few that sat almost lost to the world. There was one man she noticed in particular. He sat slouched in his chair, his arms drawn tightly to his chest almost ensuring that no one spoke to him just by how unpleasant he looked. He had large dark circles under his eyes – a red flag to all the sleep he had been losing. And he held a scowl on his face nearly the entire time.

But there was something so entirely familiar about the man. Maybe it was the reason she couldn't even focus on what the counselors were saying – because of her watchful eye on him.

His eyes, no matter how angry or threatening they were, held something in them. Emma couldn't put her finger on it, though it was like she gazed into them before, perhaps long ago. It was eating at her, trying to figure the man out. And by the end of the meeting, she was grateful to the man for keeping her attention off her dead husband.

Emma stood up, grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair, wrapping it around herself once again. When she looked up, the man was also wrapping his jacket around himself. And then his green eyes met with hers. And he didn't look away. And she couldn't look away.

His name was no longer on the tip of her tongue – it was spiraling through her head and she was falling back years.

_Harry Styles._

He was her childhood sweetheart. The boy she loved long ago. He was the one that got away.

Emma's heart beat wildly in her chest and it almost scared her with its activity. It was so long since she felt any life inside of the worthless organ. She thought it died with her husband.

She never thought for as long as she lived that she would see his face again. But there he was, standing before her, as plain as day. And then a heavy dose of misery shot straight through her. Because if he was truly standing in front of her, it meant one thing and one thing alone – that he lost his spouse too.


	2. The tale of a dazed girl

The look in Harry’s eyes mirrored her own – _astonishment_. Emma was almost certain he never planned to see her again in this lifetime. Although she was young when she left Holmes Chapel, she stayed gone – a fact she could be sure was something Harry would never forget. She went off to boarding school in London for the final two years of school and stayed out there to go to University. That was when she met and fell in love with Patrick. But it didn’t mean she ever forgot her first love. No, there would be no chance she could ever forget Harry Styles – the boy that she let slip through her fingers.

“Hi, I’m Chris,” Emma heard a man say.

It took her a few moments to realize he was talking to her. Her vision cut away momentarily from Harry’s to look at the short, balding man standing to the side of her. When she looked back over to where Harry was, he already turned away and started walking toward the exit. Emma’s heart constricted in her chest. She didn’t want him to go, but she knew there wasn’t anything she could say to him to make him stay. She watched him disappear out of the doorway and she could feel as her heart shriveled back down to size when he left.

“Uh… Emma,” she said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Hello, Emma. I was glad to see you show up tonight,” he told her, smiling cheerfully at her.

“Huh?” She asked, confused. How did he know anything about her?

“Don’t worry. I just meant by you showing up, that all who signed up for the sessions showed up. That rarely ever happens,” he chuckled to himself.

“Oh. Yeah. My sister and mother made me come,” she said, her voice monotone.

“I’m sure glad they did,” he continued, his smile never leaving his face. He was much too cheerful for a grief group – that was for sure.

“Yeah,” she breathed.

“I hope to see you again next week, Emma,” he told her.

“Yeah,” she nodded, still feeling the after-effects of what seeing Harry did to her.

Every nerve in her body seemed like it was on high alert and she was dangerously close to running after him, just to see his face again – just to look into those bright green eyes once more.

As Emma waited for Piper to pick her up, she sat on the bench in the lobby of the church. Visions of Harry’s face pillaged through her mind as memory after memory played like movies in her head. It was like an atonement for all the years she tried to forget about him, to make the ache in her chest for him end. The memories were all back with a vengeance.

_“You know I’ll always love you, Emmy,”_ Harry’s voice resonated through the memories in her mind.

_Emmy._

No one ever called her Emmy before or after Harry. She almost forgot about the nickname… until now.

“How was it?” She heard Piper’s voice. Emma looked up to find her standing in front of her in the lobby. She didn’t even hear her come in, her thoughts were so loud.

“Fine,” she said quietly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Piper asked.

“No,” she sighed. She didn’t want to talk about therapy and she wasn’t ready to tell her about seeing Harry yet.

The car ride was quiet. Piper didn’t pry, in which Emma was entirely grateful for.

“Do you think… do you think maybe you’ll go back next week?” Piper asked before Emma got out of the car at their childhood home.

“Yeah… I think… maybe,” Emma told her with a shrug.

“Good,” she said with a smile and watched as Emma exited the car.

Maddie was asleep in her crib when Emma went to check on her. She didn’t realize how much she missed her until she was away from her for a few hours. She gave her a kiss on the cheek before she turned and walked out of the nursery, which was once her room growing up.

Emma walked down the hallway to Piper’s old room, which was the room she lived in now. Sighing, she sat down on the bed. Seeing Patrick’s picture on her nightstand sent a wave of guilt through her body. 

She barely even thought of him since she saw Harry. Did she even think of him? How could one man make her forget another so easily? But it wasn’t like she forgot Patrick. Not a chance. It was just as if Harry’s memory displaced those of Patrick for the moment.

As Emma laid down in bed, she let memories of Patrick work their way into her head, needing to feel him with her once again.

_“Are you new around here?” Emma heard a male voice ask from behind her. His Irish accent was well-noticed._

_Emma spun around to see an Angelic creature standing_ _in front of_ _her. She was certain he fell straight from the Heavens. He looked like a cherub, but with attractive qualities mixed in. He had blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. And just by observing him, Emma already knew he had no problem picking up women and that she was probably going to be next in line._

_“I just started. I’m… I’m a first year,” Emma stammered, feeling like her brain and mouth were enemies at that point._

_“Ah, don’t even worry about using terms like ‘first year’ around here. Nobody cares about things like that. We’re all just Uni students,” he told her with a wide smirk. She nodded with a bashful smile as she felt her face heat up. He was really beautiful._

_“My name’s Patrick Gaunt. And yours?” He said, shaking her hand._

_“Emma. Emma Haines,” she introduced herself._

_“Like the knickers?” He asked, quirking his eyebrow skeptically._

_“What?” She asked, confused._

_“Hanes_ _underpants. You know, Michael Jordan was their spokesperson for a while,” he said, smirking wildly at her._

_“Oh, no. H-A-I-N-E-S,” she told him._

_“Oh, okay,” he laughed._

_“And yours… your last name means ‘skinny’ in the English language,” she pointed out._

_“That it does,” he nodded, smiling widely at her._

_“Not very noble if you ask me,” she teased playfully._

_“Noble?” He asked, intrigued by her words._

_“Yeah. If I were to choose a proper last name I’d want it to be something like… like Hardy… or uh, Hale,” she jested, smirking playfully at him, pulling random words out of her brain._

_“Hardy or Hale,_ _aye?”_ _He questioned with a tiny smirk,_ _his eyes dancing with amusement._

_“Yeah. Hardy means brave and Hale means strong,” she explained, nodding her head knowingly._

_“Well, then…” He said, looking halfway between offended and amused._

_“Gaunt means skeletal and puny,” Emma ribbed._

_“Jeez, tell it how it is, lady,” he chuckled._

_“I’m just kidding, Patrick Gaunt. I hope you know that. Gaunt is a wonderful surname,” she said, chuckling at him._

_“One you wouldn’t mind tagging on to yours someday?” He asked boldly._

_“Well, hey now. Was that a marriage proposal in the first ten minutes? Now, that sets some sort of record, Patrick Gaunt,” Emma joked._

_“What was the record before?” He asked amusingly._

_“Eleven minutes,” she joked._

_“Oh. Ha,” he laughed. Emma smiled back at him._

_“I like you, Emma Haines – not the knickers, Hanes,” he said, smiling sweetly at her._

_“I’m glad,” she said, smiling back._

And without fail, as to not be out done by Patrick, memories of Harry filled her head as well.

_“Emmmma…” She heard someone whisper._

_It didn’t take her long to be woken up from the voice. It was Harry’s. Her favorite sound._

_“Emma Rose…” He whispered again._

_Her eyes fluttered open to see his face. He was kneeling next to her bed, waking her up in the middle of the night. It wasn’t uncommon for him though, to be awake in the middle of the night. He never slept well during the summer. The heat always got to him._

_“Wake up and come swimming with me,” he said, smiling down at her._

_“What? Harry, that’s absolutely mad,” she grumbled as she sat up in bed._

_“You’re… you’re not wearing much…” He said as his eyes darted down to her chest. It was true. She was only wearing her bra and panties because of the heat._

_“It’s… it’s hot,” she said, pulling the blanket up to her chest._

_“Yeah,” he said as his eyes met hers once again._

_“It covers the same as a bathing suit…” She felt the need to point out._

_Harry just turned fifteen that February. Emma was still only fourteen, but right on the cusp of fifteen. They were both right on the cusp of everything really, including their sexual discovery. The two of them knew each other from school for many years, but it was only that spring that they became more than acquaintances and more than friends really. All Emma knew was she really enjoyed kissing him._

_“Well, then… you don’t even have to change into your bathing suit then,” he said with a mischievous smirk._

_“I’m not wearing this swimming, Harry,” she said as her cheeks began to burn with blush._

_“So you’ll come swimming with me then?” He asked excitedly._

_“Fine,” she conceded._

_“Yes! Come on, Emma. You won’t regret it,” he said, beaming a smile at her._

_“You need to stop sneaking in my window,” she threw out, but of course, she didn’t mean it._

_“Never. I’ll be waiting outside for you. Don’t take long,” he said, going out the same way he came in._

Emma dreamt of Harry that night – the Harry she knew way back when, not the sad shell of a man he seemed to be now. Whoever his spouse was, she could tell they were definitely someone he cared for deeply. And all Emma wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and cry into his chest. She wanted him to be able to cry too. She wanted to help him and have him help her.

There was one thing she hoped for throughout the passing week. That Harry Styles would be at the next meeting.


	3. The tale of a conflicted girl

"Mum, what happened to my boxes from school?" Emma asked with her head in the hallway closet.

"Your what?" She heard her mother shout down the hallway.

"You said you saved all my stuff from school. From before I went to London," Emma reminded her.

"Oh. Uh, have you checked the attic?" She asked.

"The attic?" Emma grumbled to herself.

She always hated the attic. It creeped her out more than she cared to admit. Piper always loved it up there. She would spend hours up there reading by the old stained-glass window, whereas Emma found it dusty and spooky. But Emma was a grown-up now. Things like that shouldn't affect her anymore. But even so, she got that familiar shiver as she crawled up the attic ladder on her quest to find her memorabilia from her formidable years.

The indistinguishable smell of the past wafted through her nostrils, giving her even more of an eerie feeling. She didn't like that any of her stuff was up there. She pulled on the string for the light and waited as it flickered to life.

Looking around, Emma couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the number of boxes her mother kept up there. From Christmas decorations to baby clothes to camping equipment – it was all stored up there. Even after her father passed away, her mother kept all of his things tucked away in this very attic. God knows nobody in this house was going to pull out that camping equipment and use it anymore. It was her father's passion, not his wife or daughters. The days when they went camping as a family had long passed.

It took Emma a bit of time to come across the box labeled _'Emma's Things'_. She dusted off the top of the box before pulling it out of its little nook in the attic. She wasn't about to spend any more time than necessary up there, so she took it down to her bedroom with her. She set the box on the bed and took a deep breath before she opened the top. She was about to dredge up memories she long since repressed or forgotten. She was doing it willing, yet she was scared to death of it.

"Come on," she coaxed herself as she pushed away the flaps from the top of the box.

On top lay her yearbook from her final year of school in her hometown. _Holmes Chapel Collegiate School_ was written in large letters across the cover along with the swooping numbers of _2010_ below it. That was the last year she went to school in Holmes Chapel. Grabbing the book out of the box, she took a seat on the edge of the bed. With another deep breath, she opened the cover.

There wasn't much she remembered – the years decayed and distorted her memories of her life at _HCCS_. Her most recent school memories all took place at _Bridgeport Preparatory_ in London. But there were some things she would never forget – like the way Harry Styles made her feel during the time she spent with him. And that was something she'd never find in a yearbook.

Her heart skipped slightly when she came across a photo of Harry in the book. He was standing in the middle of a group of friends, with a smug smile on his face.

He was the type of lad who always had friends because he was just so likeable. He was always making people laugh. But no one laughed harder at his jokes than Emma did. She sighed looking at the face of the teenage boy she left behind. If she had to do it all over again, she might have actually chosen to stay in Holmes Chapel with him instead of going to boarding school in London. But then she thought of Patrick and how amazing her life was with him by her side. And she knew it wasn't fair to put Harry up on a pedestal like she was doing. Patrick was just as significant in her life, if not more. He was the man she married, the man she had a child with.

Emma flipped to her own picture in the yearbook. 

She looked almost unrecognizable. But deep down, past the overly highlighted hair and goofy smile was the same girl she always was. _Emma Haines_. She was Emma Gaunt now, taking Patrick's family name.

Just on the next page over, came the students in her year with last names starting with 'S' – including him. _Harry Styles_. His year ten school photo was by far one of her favorite pictures of him.

It was one of the few pictures of him she took with her to boarding school. She hung it next to her bed, and her roommate and all her friends constantly gawked over how cute he was.

Quickly, Emma closed the yearbook, unable to take the feelings that were bombarding her all at once.

Emma kissed Maddie on the forehead before she left the house for therapy that night. She was sleeping in her grandmother’s arms as she was being fed a bottle. The guilt was almost consuming. Emma should be the one to be feeding her. She was her mother. But then she remembered what the focus and purpose of the meetings were for. It was all for her daughter. Emma was sure the root of the guilt she felt came from the selfish reason she wanted to go to the meeting – to see if Harry would be there.

“Come on, Em. You don’t want to be late, do you?” Piper coaxed her out of the house.

It wasn’t raining like it was the first night of therapy, but there was a slight nip in the air. A cold front had blown its way through, chilling her to the bone.

“Hey, Pipe?” Emma asked after she got into the driver seat next to her in the car.

“Hey, what?” She asked.

“Do you— Uh, do you remember Harry… Harry Styles?” Emma asked, looking at her cautiously.

“Of course I remember, Harry Styles. The question is, do _you_ remember Harry Styles?” Piper threw at her.

“Well, that was rude,” Emma said, pursing her lips at her sister.

“Well, you did kind of up and leave him to be some snobby city girl at boarding school,” she giggled.

“Oh, shut it,” Emma snapped at her.

“I don’t really think you know how upset he was after you left,” Piper told her, looking in her direction.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Emma asked cautiously.

“He used to talk to me after you left… _a lot_ ,” Piper told her.

“What?” Emma asked quickly.

“I think he just missed you, is all. I was the closest thing he had to you since you were gone,” she explained.

“You didn’t—you two didn’t...” Emma choked out, thinking the worst. If Harry slept with her baby sister, she didn’t know what she would do. She didn’t know if she could handle it.

“Em, no. _Jesus_. You think I would ever fool around with Harry when I knew how you felt about him?” She scoffed.

“Good,” Emma said quietly.

“I think he was just really, really heartbroken,” Piper said melancholy.

Emma’s heart sat heavy in her chest. She never meant to break his heart and she would never forgive herself for doing so.

“He was absolutely gorgeous though. _Oh my days_ , he was gorgeous,” Piper said, smiling knowingly.

“Shut it,” Emma told her a moment later as a smirk danced across her lips. He _definitely_ was gorgeous.

“What made you bring him up?” She asked curiously.

“I, uh… I was going through some old things from when I went to school here. I saw his picture in the yearbook,” Emma told her.

It was only a half-truth, but it was as much as Emma wanted to reveal to anyone at that point. She still wasn’t sure about her feelings since she saw Harry last week. She needed to wrap her head around it before she could even think about speaking about it out loud.

“I’ll pick you up when it’s over,” Piper told her as she parked outside the church once again.

Emma was still scared as shit to go inside, but this time for a completely different reason.

“Thanks,” Emma told her as she got out of the vehicle.

She slowly made her way up to the large wooden doors of the building, feeling terror rise up from deep inside of her. She had to keep telling herself she was doing it for Maddie. That therapy was a good thing. That Madeline deserved much more than a broken mummy. Yes, therapy was a good thing – with or without Harry Styles.

When Emma walked into the Sunday school room, her eyes immediately scanned the crowd. When she didn’t see his face, she scanned the room again. He didn’t show. He saw her last week and ran for the hills. Why would he want to see her again after she apparently broke his heart, like her sister just informed her? It would just be another thing to add to his latest misery. He didn’t need her gunking up his grieving process.

Emma took a deep breath and took a seat, telling herself it would be better if he didn’t show up. She’d be able to find a healthy way to work through her own grief rather than latching onto the memories of her former love. _Yes, it would be better._

The meeting began and Emma started to feel really good about it. She was really able to concentrate on what the counselors were saying. That was until the door opened to the classroom.

“Welcome back,” Chris, the therapist that introduced himself to Emma last week, greeted the late arrival.

Emma turned to see the harrowing face of Harry Styles walking through the door to join the meeting.

Their eyes met briefly before he took the first available seat and sat down. She couldn’t help but stare at him out of the corner of her eye. He made sure not to look up, much like the previous week. He just folded his arms across his chest and slumped down in the chair making himself unavailable to everyone.

Emma made it a point to at least try to pay attention to this week’s session. How were they supposed to help her if she ignored everything they said?

A man stood up and shared the heartbreaking story of how he came home from work to find his wife of ten years dead in their bed from an apparent overdose of sleeping pills. Their two children left motherless for the rest of their lives. Much like Maddie was left fatherless without a chance of ever knowing him.

By the end of the session, Emma felt entirely drained. She just needed to get some fresh air. Without thinking, she raced out the door as soon as they were dismissed. The blast of cool air on her face was comforting as she made her way outside. But after a few moments, she began shivering and looked down to see she forgot her coat. When she turned to go back inside, she slammed right into someone.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry,” Emma gasped, peeling herself away from the person.

When she looked up, she saw those eyes. Those green, empty eyes – the eyes that used to hold so much life and laughter.

_Harry._

“Emmy. Hi,” he breathed. The nickname sent a shot of electricity through her body. _Oh, God_.


	4. The tale of a bewildered girl

“Emmy. Hi,” Harry breathed.

Emma was frozen, completely statuesque. Her eyes stared into his as he stared back, but she couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak.

“Your jacket. You forgot it,” he said, holding the peacoat out to her. His voice was much, _much_ deeper than she remembered. And she could barely contain the way it affected her.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked as his brow furrowed.

“Uh… um. Thanks,” she said, grabbing the jacket from him, only breaking her eyes away from his to replace it on her body. As she did, Harry pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“Terrible habit,” she found herself speaking before thinking. Harry scoffed with a slight laugh.

“Well, there are worse things,” he said, looking out across the street as he puffed on the cigarette.

“I’m sorry. I-I… sometimes I don’t have a filter,” she said, trying to make up for her snap judgement.

“I remember,” he said with a nod, before taking another drag.

His words cut through her, slicing away at her, making her feel like she couldn’t breathe. ‘ _I remember’_. A part of her thought she was dreaming. Another part of her imagined the man standing in front of her wasn’t the same boy she grew up with, the boy she loved. But his words made everything feel so real again, so present, so conscious. He remembered.

Emma caught it when he looked over at her out of the corner of his eye, because she was doing the same. She quickly looked away, feeling like an adolescent with the way she was averting her entire self away from him.

“I never thought I’d see you again, Emmy,” he breathed through the night air, cutting through some of the tension.

“I never thought I’d be back,” she admitted quietly. He nodded, drawing in a ragged breath.

“Why are you back?” He asked a moment later.

There was a hesitation in his question and Emma knew he already knew the answer to it. He was in a therapy group for widows. What more was there to say?

“I-I…” She stammered.

“It’s okay. I… it was rhetorical. Should have stayed in my head,” he said, brushing it off as he threw down his cigarette at his feet and stomped it out. Emma didn’t speak.

“It was good to see you, Emmy,” Harry said as he began to descend the steps outside the church.

“Harry!” She found herself shouting. He turned to look back at her with his sad eyes.

“Something bad happened to you, didn’t it?” She asked with worry-filled eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, it did,” he said with a nod, staring at her for a few moments before turning to continue down the steps.

A few moments later, he disappeared behind the church where the parking lot resided. Emma took a deep, shaky breath in, trying to calm her nerves, just as Piper pulled up to the curb.

“How are you feeling about your sessions?” Emma’s mother asked as they sat eating their dinner a few nights later.

“ _Hmm?”_ She hummed, pulling her brain back into the conversation. She found herself zoning out more and more, usually thinking about Harry. Her mind wouldn’t let her forget their run-in.

“I asked how your therapy sessions are going,” her mother asked again.

“Oh. Uh. Mostly, they’re pretty depressing,” she said with a shrug, taking a sip of her wine.

“What about them is depressing? I mean, specifically,” she asked, looking concerned.

“Well, we’re still in the sharing portion of the sessions, so people are sharing stories of their loved ones passing,” Emma told her.

“Have you shared?” She asked curiously.

“No,” she admitted sheepishly as she took another sip of her wine.

“Will you share?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Emma said, shrugging her shoulders, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Don’t you think it would help to talk about Patrick?” She asked carefully.

Emma’s blood tingled inside her body with the mention of his name. She did not want to share with complete strangers. She just didn’t feel comfortable. She would sit there and listen to the brave few that could stand up there talking about how their wife committed suicide or how their husband drown, but she was not comfortable sharing her own harrowing tale. It was still too new for her, too early. Patrick’s grave was still too fresh, the wounds on her heart were still too raw.

“I just… I’m not ready,” Emma told her, trying to appease her enough so she wouldn’t continue to push it.

“I hope that someday you will be ready… for Madeline’s sake,” her mother said, laying the guilt on thick.

It was moments like that when she could tell her mother was born and raised Catholic. The ability to throw out guilt-trips was like second nature to her.

“I… uh, Harry Styles goes to the sessions,” Emma blurted out, changing the subject immediately.

Only, she changed it to a subject she wanted to talk even less about than sharing about Patrick in her groups. Again, this was her talking before thinking.

“Harry Styles. Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in ages,” her mother said, her eyes lighting up.

“ _Mm-hmm_ ,” Emma hummed, stabbing her fork into her perfectly prepared chicken.

“He… he must have lost his spouse?” She said, making it sound like more of a question than a statement.

“He must’ve,” Emma said quietly, keeping her eyes on her plate.

“He hasn’t shared either?” She asked.

“Harry wasn’t much of a talker,” Emma said, not even believing the lie she just told.

“We are talking about _Harry Styles_ , aren’t we? That boy had more energy than a baby on a sugar-rush. And his mouth never stopped going,” her mother said, calling her out.

“Yeah,” Emma breathed. Harry was a big ball of sunshine, always the center of attention, always the center of her world.

“Have you spoken to him?” She asked. Emma looked up at her to find her giving her a reluctant eye.

“Not much. We… we said ‘hello’ last time,” she told her.

“That’s it?” She asked, furrowing her brow.

“What? We… we just saw each other in passing,” she lied.

“You mean to tell me that after all this time, you just said ‘hello’ to one another?” She asked.

“It’s been a long time, Mum,” Emma sighed.

“And you and Harry were always more than that to each other, more than _acquaintances_ ,” she pointed out.

“I left him,” Emma choked out. Her mother continued to stare at her, her brows furrowing minutely in question.

“I left him and I didn’t look back. I left,” Emma said, shaking her head.

“You went to school,” she pointed out.

“It doesn’t change the fact…” Emma said, letting her voice die out, looking down at her plate once again.

“You’re going to let him go again?” She asked. Emma’s eyes shot up to hers, fiery and anxious.

“I _just_ lost Patrick. Harry – he lost his spouse. I’m not—I didn’t come back for him. I… I… _gahhh_ ,” Emma scoffed.

“Calm down, Emma. I wasn’t suggesting you throw yourself at him. You two… you were always such great friends. Why can’t you be that for each other again?” She asked and Emma shook her head.

“There’s too much… too much history,” she sighed.

“Let it go,” she advised. Emma felt her eyes tearing up, knowing it wasn’t that easy.

“You’re never going to find peace with yourself if you don’t let it go, Emma,” she breathed as she stood up from the table, clearing both of their plates.

Session number three was harder to get through than the other two combined. One reason was because the man that was sharing his story about his wife, who died unexpectedly from a blood clot to the brain, could barely contain his emotions as he spoke. He stood up in front of the group blubbering and crying almost uncontrollably. Nobody stood up to comfort him or to lend him support. They just let him stand up there drowning in his tears.

The other reason why it was so unbearable was because instead of keeping his head down to himself, Emma caught Harry on several occasions looking over in her general direction or blatantly just staring at her. She had to look away. She couldn’t just let herself get lost in him. She was a wife and a mother. At least, to her, she always would be.

After the session, Emma pulled her jacket on and snuck out the door before she could even catch another glimpse at Harry Styles. She didn’t know why she was running away. Maybe because of what her mother reminded her of. It scared her. Getting close to Harry again, getting to know him again, scared the shit out of her. Mainly because she knew it was her fault they ever lost sight of each other. Because the guilt had been eating her alive for years. And now to find out they had even more in common than they used to by way of deceased spouses was almost too much to take. How did their lives run so parallel after all this time?

The night air soothed her as it filled her lungs. She took a moment to regain her composure, standing at the top of the steps much like the week before. She told herself she was waiting there because that’s where Piper would meet her. But she knew deep down it was because she knew Harry would find her there.

“You want to grab a cuppa, Emmy?” She heard his familiar deep voice from behind her and her heart sped up because her plan worked.

Emma turned to look in his eyes before nodding her head. Saying yes to him was something she found incredibly easy long ago. The years didn’t change that.

Piper pulled up moments later, surprising Emma by being early.

“Uh, let me…” Emma told Harry as she made her way down the stairs. He nodded as he watched her.

Emma sprinted to the car and knocked on the window for her to roll it down. Piper’s smile was unyielding as the window opened up.

“Is that Harry Styles? _Oh my god_. Is that him?” She gasped in a low voice.

“Yes. Just…” Emma said, turning back to look at Harry momentarily. He was still watching.

“Oh my god. He’s still proper _gorgeous_ ,” Piper swooned.

“Pipe—just… just shut it, okay,” Emma told her.

“Sorry,” she giggled.

“I’m gonna… we’re gonna… go have tea,” Emma told her.

“Go, Emma,” Piper said suggestively, smirking wildly at her.

“It’s not like that,” Emma warned her.

“I know. I’m just teasing. Just… just call me if you need me to pick you up later,” she told her with a beaming smile.

“I will. Thanks, Piper,” Emma said, leaning in to meet her with a kiss on the cheek.

“Love you, sissy,” she said.

“Love you too,” Emma said before Piper pulled away from the curb, leaving her there with Harry.

Emma turned to find him descending the stairs, walking toward her.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Ready,” she said with a nod and a small smile.

_Maybe._


	5. The tale of a scared girl

“Anything besides the tea?” The waitress asked as they sat at a small café that Harry took Emma to.

“Could I get a glass of water?” Harry asked, smiling pleasantly at the woman, but Emma noticed that the smile never reached his eyes.

“Sure thing. Anything for you, dear?” She asked. Emma shook her head slowly. She just really wanted the lady to get lost.

“I’ll bring that right over,” she said, smiling genuinely at Harry.

“Thank you,” he said, giving her a nod as she hurried off.

Their eyes connected from across the table and Emma knew both of them had so much they wanted to say, but neither of them knew how to start the conversation or even begin to express the things that were pent up inside of them. And before they could get any words out, the waitress was back, bringing Harry his water.

“Just let me know if I can get you two anything else,” she said, smiling at them.

“Will do,” Harry told her. She nodded and hurried off once again.

“Emmy,” he breathed.

At the sound of her nickname on his tongue, her vision fell to her hands wrapped around the tea cup.

“Nobody ever calls me that,” she said quietly.

“From what I remember, nobody but me ever did call you that,” he added.

“True,” she said, nodding her head lightly.

“How long has it been?” He asked. Emma’s eyes lifted up to his again.

She knew exactly how long it had been. It was the Christmas of her final year of high school – that was the last time she saw him. She was home on Holiday and she was out getting some last minute groceries for her mother before the stores closed on Christmas Eve. Running into Harry at the supermarket was not expected, but his mum had the same needs as her own mother and they nearly crashed into each other down the canned goods aisle.

_Emma almost couldn’t believe her eyes – he grew up so much. She stood there staring at him, unable to speak. He was so tall – almost too tall. And his hair was slightly grown out and he was even more handsome than she remembered. His beautiful green eyes hadn’t changed, neither did the smile that always made her weak._

_“Emmy…” He breathed._

_“Harry,” she said, her voice cracking slightly, her mouth all of a sudden feeling as dry as sandpaper._

_“Oh my god,” he said, setting the can of beans that he had in his hand back onto the shelf, never dropping his eyes from hers._

_She had no idea what to say. The guilt that consumed her when it came to Harry was enough to paralyze her. When she first left for boarding school in London, she promised him they’d keep in touch; that their friendship meant more to her than anything else in the world; that she loved him and she always would. But somewhere along the line they grew apart. Their phone calls were few and far between until they stopped altogether. They lost touch and she knew it was her fault because Harry tried to keep the connection open for a while after she gave up. He still called. He still wrote. He still texted. It was all on her. It was her fault they were standing in front of each other speechless._

_“You look… you look absolutely beautiful,” he told her, his eyes staring into hers._

_“Thanks,” she said, dropping her gaze, feeling bashful._

_“You’re… you’re home?” He asked._

_“On Holiday,” she told him._

_“Oh,” he nodded._

_“I go back right after the New Year,” she told him._

_“We should… we should hang out… while you’re home, you know,” he said excitedly._

_“Yeah. We should,” she said, smiling at him._

_“Like old times,” he added in._

_“Like old times,” she agreed, even though she knew it would never be like old times._

_“Wow. I just can’t believe you’re actually standing in front of me,” he said after a few moments of weighted silence._

_“Yeah. You too,” she said, smiling awkwardly at him._

_“Well, uh… I’m just picking up some stuff for my mum,” he said, grabbing the can of beans again._

_“Yeah. Me too,” she told him._

_“Brilliant,” he said._

_“I should… I should probably get going,” she told him._

_“Sure. Yeah,” he said, looking rather disappointed._

_“It was really good to see you, Harry,” she told him._

_“You too,” he said, stepping forward to wrap her up into a short hug._

_“Ring me or come by if you want to hang,” he told her._

_“I will,” she said, smiling weakly at him._

_“It’s so good to see you, Emmy,” he told her._

_“You too, Harry,” she said, giving him one last smile before she moved past him, giving a little wave._

_She didn’t look back. And she never got around to meeting up with him to hang out. She was too afraid of hashing out everything with him and admitting fault for letting their friendship deteriorate._

__

“It’s been a long time,” she told him quietly.

“It has,” he said, nodding in agreement.

Silence engulfed them once again. It was definitely harder than she thought it would to be around him again. And with the weight of the pain in their lives pressing on them, it made it just that much harder.

“What have you been doing with your life?” He asked, letting his lip twitch up into a smile momentarily before it fell once again.

“I, uh… I… not a whole lot, really,” she said, letting out a strained laugh.

“Me neither,” he chuckled, turning his cup with his fingers.

Emma took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I have a… I have a daughter,” she told him quietly.

“Wow. Really?” He asked, looking genuinely surprised.

“Yeah. Madeline. She’s… she’s five months old,” she told him.

“Wow. Oh, wow. Five months only, huh?” He asked, trying to hide the pain in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Emma breathed quietly.

“I have a daughter too,” he told her.

“You do?” She asked, feeling the pain in her heart for both of them.

“Yeah. She’s three,” he told her.

“What’s her name?” Emma asked.

“Haven,” he said.

“Haven. That’s a beautiful name,” she said, smiling at him.

“Thank you. Her mum… she picked it out,” Harry said sadly.

Emma didn’t really know what to say. She so badly wanted to know his story – his entire story, but she didn’t want to pry. She didn’t want to bring up something so painful on their first real meeting since they were reunited. She wanted him to _want_ to tell her about it in his own time.

“There’s just… there’s so much I want to say to you, Emma. So much I feel needs to be said. But I just… I don’t know where to start. And I don’t know how to say it,” he said, running his fingers through his long, ruffled hair before swooping it to the side, out of his eyes.

“Start at the beginning,” she said quietly.

Harry let out a large sigh and sat back against the booth, looking into her eyes for a few moments.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he said finally.

Emma had no words to follow those. She really never thought she’d see him again either. Harry sat forward again, resting his arms against the table top.

“Can we talk? I mean, like _really_ talk?” He asked her.

“Yeah. I mean, of course, Harry. That’s why we’re here,” she told him.

He nodded and took another deep breath like he was preparing for battle or something.

“I just… I have a lot of things I… that I just need to get off of my chest,” he told her.

“Okay,” she said, nodding slowly as she waited patiently for him to begin. His words frightened her more than she’d like to admit. He was about to slash open old wounds; scar tissue that still hurt years later.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you, Emmy,” he told her.

“Please,” she said with a nod. She could feel her hands shaking, so she cupped her mug again.

“When you left… when you left for London and… and never came back, it gutted me,” he told her, staring straight into her eyes. There it was. She could feel the invisible lacerations in her heart oozing with guilt and regret.

The second the words left his lips, the tears were stinging in her eyes. It was always her biggest regret in life – hurting Harry like that. She just didn’t know how to make things better after she let them fall apart. She was scared.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Emma whispered, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.

“I understand that you made a life out there. I get that. I completely understand. But the fact that you just dropped me like I meant nothing to you – like we were nothing to each other was devastating,” he explained.

“Harry, I know. I know. I’m so sorry,” she said, unable to look up at him as her first tears slid helplessly out of her eyes.

“It took me a long time to get over you. When I made plans for the future, you were always in them. I always hoped you’d show up on my doorstep. But you never did,” he said honestly.

Emma closed her eyes tightly, pushing out her tears as she did. The pain in her heart was crippling.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed.

“No,” she whispered, wiping at her eyes.

She heard him sigh before she heard the unmistakable sound of his back hitting the booth seat once again. Emma opened her eyes and forced herself to look at him.

“I-I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said again, shaking his head slightly.

“Please, don’t apologize,” she told him.

“You have enough going on. I don’t need to add to it,” he said. His words stung her heart even more, causing the tears to flow a little faster.

“Emma, I’m sorry,” his voice was soft.

“I’m okay,” she told him as she wiped at her eyes.

“Here,” he said, handing her his napkin.

“Thanks,” she said as she began dabbing at her eyes.

“I just… you have no idea how guilty I feel for letting our friendship fall apart,” she told him honestly.

“It was more than just our friendship. I loved you. I was in love with you, Emma,” he reminded her. Emma’s eyes shot up to his, remembering all the ways he made her feel when they were together.

“I was in love with you too,” she told him.

“Then how was it so easy to just forget me like that?” He asked, knitting his brow together, looking pained. It was not easy. Nothing about their situation was easy on her.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, unable to find the right words to explain it. She was sure there would never be enough words to make them right. He nodded his head slightly, looking down at his tea once again.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any real answers for you, Harry. I’m sorry. I was just… I was selfish and I was scared and I just didn’t… I didn’t know what I was doing was going to tear us apart so thoroughly,” she told him.

He nodded again, looking up at her this time. Silence engulfed them once again as Emma tried to dry her tears.

“What was his name?” Harry asked.

“Who’s?” Emma asked.

“Your daughter’s father,” he asked.

Emma swallowed back the lump in her throat. It felt incredibly abnormal to be talking about her late husband with Harry.

“Patrick,” she breathed his name.

“Were you… were you two married?” Harry asked.

“Yes. We were married for… for two years,” she told him.

_“Emma Rose Haines, I have loved you since the moment I met you. You caught my eye the second I saw you and I have been hooked on you ever since. Every day with you is better than the last and I can’t imagine loving anyone else in this lifetime,” Patrick told her as he got down on one knee in front of her._

_“I love you, Patrick,” she choked out as she felt the tears prickle in her eyes._

_“Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He asked sincerely._

_“Oh my god,” she breathed as he opened up a small velvet box that contained an amazing three stone diamond ring in it._

_“Patrick…” Emma breathed, holding her hands over her mouth. She heard him chuckle and she looked down into his questioning eyes._

_“Yes. Yes, Patrick. Yes,” she said as she broke down completely, sobbing into his shoulder after she threw her arms around him._

_“Oh, I love you. I love you so much, Emma,” Patrick breathed in her ear as he held her against his body._

__

The tears began to blur in her eyes again at the memory of her late husband.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready, Emma,” she heard Harry’s voice. She looked up at him as the tears welled in her eyes.

“I can’t… I-I haven’t…” She choked out.

“It’s okay, Emma,” he told her.

“No. I-I… I haven’t been able to talk about him, but with you… I want to,” she told him. He gave her a small smile. Emma wiped her eyes, trying to bury the pain in her heart.

“He died… he died in a car accident,” she said. She wasn’t able to look him in the eye, but she was still making progress.

“I’m sorry,” Harry breathed out heavily.

“One second he was here – healthy and happy, and the next second he was just gone,” Emma said, wiping vigorously at her unrelenting tears.

Harry was silent and she couldn’t see him through her tears. She felt ridiculous for breaking down in the middle of a café, but really she shouldn’t have cared.

“I was eight months pregnant,” Emma choked out.

“Emma, I’m so sorry,” he breathed, reaching across the table, placing his hand over her own, causing her to nearly jump from the contact.

“I just… some days it’s hard to even breathe,” she said, shaking her head.

“I know the feeling,” he said quietly. She finally let herself look up at him again. He sighed again, pulling his hand back.

“When I met my wife – Hannah, I finally felt like I could get past everything. I finally felt whole again. And then she was taken away and… and I haven’t been okay,” he confessed to her.

“I’m not okay,” Emma breathed, putting her hand up to her face.

“Emmy, hey. Hey,” Harry said, pulling himself out of his side of the booth only to slide into hers.

“Come here,” he said, pulling her into his arms, comforting her.

He held her for as long as it took her to compose herself. He was there for her like he always was before. He was there for her even though she didn’t deserve it after abandoning him.

“I think… I think I need to go home,” she told him once she pulled away from him.

“Okay,” he breathed.

“I just…” Emma started.

“You don’t have to explain,” he told her and she nodded.

“I’ll drive you,” he told her. She nodded again and pulled herself out of the booth right after him.

Though being in Harry’s presence lifted her up to an extent, the memories of losing Patrick pulled her down twice as much. She just wanted to go home to see Madeline, to hold her daughter in her arms and remind herself there was always a reason to keep fighting even when she wanted to completely give in to the darkness.


	6. The tale of an apprehensive girl

“Harry Styles,” Emma heard her mother say as she took one last sip of her tea before she poured it down the sink the evening of the next support group.

Her eyes widened, wondering why the hell her mother was in the other room speaking his name. Emma hurried out of the kitchen, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw Harry standing in the open doorway with her mother.

“Harry—” Emma choked out.

“Hi, Emma,” he said, looking bashful, his fists pushed deep inside the front pockets of his jeans.

“What—what are you doing here?” She stammered, her eyes wide with surprise.

“I figured you might need a ride. I mean, we’re going to the same place, right?” He said with a passive shrug of his shoulders.

“Aw, Harry. What a kind gesture,” her mother beamed at him, then looked back at Emma with a wide, goofy smile.

“I, uh… I… yeah, I guess. But Piper’s on her way already,” Emma pointed out.

“Oh,” Harry said, his expression dropping slightly.

“Non-sense, Emma. If Piper has a problem, she can take it up with me,” her mother said, waving her hand through the air.

“I mean, yeah. Yeah,” Emma said with a nod.

“Well… well, get going then,” her mother said cheerfully, like her biggest dream in life was getting the two of them back together. A thought Emma couldn’t even fathom at that point in her life. She wouldn’t even know how to begin to start dating again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll grab my purse and just… just say goodbye to Maddie,” Emma said, feeling more than awkward that Harry came there for her.

“Harry, you look… you just look fantastic,” Emma heard her mother say as she made her way into the living room where Maddie was bouncing in her jumper, chewing on a teething toy.

“Thanks,” Harry said and Emma looked up to see him blushing.

“It’s so wonderful that you and Emma ran into each other… you know… given the circumstances,” her mother went on to say.

“Oh… yeah,” Harry said quietly.

“Bye, baby girl. I love you so much,” Emma said, kissing Maddie’s cheek before she grabbed her purse.

“Okay, Mum. We’re going now,” Emma said, cutting her off before she said anything else to add to the awkwardness that she and Harry already felt.

“Okay, you two. Have a good night,” she said as Emma walked toward the door after Harry, grabbing her coat.

“Goodnight,” Harry said, waving back to her mother.

“Call me if—” Emma started as she put her coat on.

“Madeline will be fine, Emma. Go,” her mother said, pushing her along.

“Alright,” she said, quickly looking in the house again to see Maddie happily jumping.

“Go,” her mother said again, shooing her out.

“Alright,” Emma said, kissing her cheek and making her way out to Harry who stopped to wait for her on the sidewalk.

Emma smiled weakly at him, unable to really process her feelings about him showing up on her doorstep. She knew it didn’t bother her – that she found herself enjoying having him back in her life. She didn’t realize how much she missed him until he was there again. They shared so much together and Emma was the one to just let it all go. A part of her felt the need to make it up to him, but she didn’t know if she could go there. She couldn’t even fathom what it would entail to make it up to him.

As Harry was opening the passenger door for her, Piper pulled up next to Harry’s truck in the driveway.

“Harry!” She bellowed, jumping out immediately.

“Hi, Pipes,” Harry chuckled.

“Coming to pick up Emma, huh?” She asked, smiling from ear-to-ear as she walked toward them.

“Yeah, sorry. I just figured we’re… you know… going to the same place,” Harry said, giving her a sideways smile.

“No, no. Go for it. I’m glad,” she said, smiling at him.

“I should have called first,” Harry said bashfully, rubbing at his neck with his hand, looking down at the ground before he looked back up at Piper.

“It’s totally fine,” Piper said, waving her hand through the air, a large beaming embarrassing smile plastered on her face.

“Yeah. We should, uh… we should go if we don’t want to be late,” Harry chuckled as he made his way around the truck to the driver side.

“Nice,” Piper mouthed to Emma as she walked up to her, nudging her older sister with her elbow. Emma rolled her eyes at her.

“Tell me everything later,” Piper whispered just before she walked away from Emma to go into the house.

Emma didn’t know what exactly she expected to hear. They weren’t teenagers anymore. They weren’t going out on a date to the cinema. They were heading to therapy to help them cope with the loss of their spouses. The excitement her mother and sister showed was almost inappropriate.

Emma and Harry were both silent when they finally got into his vehicle. Music played quietly through the speakers as Harry drove, but they stayed mute for the most part, building up the awkward tension between them.

“I hope it’s okay that I picked you up,” Harry said finally and Emma’s head turned immediately toward him.

“Oh. Yeah. No, it’s fine,” she told him truthfully.

It only made sense, right? They were both going through something tragic. What was better than having someone to lean on? Except, Emma just wasn’t sure how to do that yet.

“You know, Emma...” He breathed lowly. She was hanging on every word, watching as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, watching as the streetlights in the rear-view momentarily lit up his olive green eyes. He really was beautiful. He always was, but he only got better with age.

“I’m really glad that… that we’re back in each other’s lives,” he said and she watched as he cringed slightly with his words. And she knew he, like her, was thinking about the real reason they were back in each other’s lives – the painful, agonizing truth that they were truly alone.

“Me too,” Emma breathed, her voice quiet and timid as she tried her hardest to not think of Patrick, because she knew if she did, she would feel guilty that she was with Harry. And she didn’t want to feel guilty. She just wanted to feel something pleasant for once.

Harry’s eyes cut away from the road momentarily, turning toward Emma, gauging her expression before a smile turned up his lips. She couldn’t help but smile back. And even when his eyes focused back on the road ahead, he kept his smile on his lips. Emma felt a blush run up her cheeks thinking about his smile, about making him happy.

When Harry pulled into the church parking lot, Emma was brought back to reality again – the spiraling painful reality of their harrowing lives.

“Ready?” Harry asked, taking a deep breath before letting it out.

Emma nodded lightly, staring at the building in front of them. Her stomach turned and her heart squeezed in her chest.

“We don’t have to go in,” he said quietly.

“No. I… I’m okay,” she told him, her shaky voice making her words sound like a lie.

“Are you sure, Em? I know how hard this is,” he said, causing her heart to constrict painfully again.

“I know you do,” she breathed almost inaudibly.

“Strength. We can give each other strength,” Harry said, resting his hand on top of hers.

Emma’s eyes prickled with tears and she knew she needed to go now or she wouldn’t get out of the truck.

“Strength,” she agreed, turning her hand up, squeezing Harry’s slightly before her other hand grabbed onto the door handle and pushed it open.

Emma and Harry walked into the Sunday school room together and sat down on the cold metal folding chairs next to each other. Most of the same people were there that they were in the group with from the beginning, but there were also a few new faces and her heart bled for them, for what they were going through.

Neither Emma nor Harry shared anything during the session once again. She didn’t know if she would ever be ready to share and something told her Harry was thinking the same thing. As they listened to some of the newer faces sharing their heartbreaking tales of loss, Emma found herself trying her hardest to think of anything other than the brimming pain and despair that hung over all of them in the small room.

Out of the corner of her eye, she found herself watching Harry. Her eyes flit over his jean-clad lower half, one leg crossed up casually onto his other knee, his right hand holding his ankle, while his left hand hung loosely over the back of her chair. She felt his arm on her back and it made her feel, for lack of better words… _taken_.

Emma took a deep breath and looked up at the woman who stood in front of the group sharing about her husband’s battle with prostate cancer. She just lost him not even a month before and finally felt comfortable enough to come to the group. Emma couldn’t help but think of how strong she was to come there after only a month. A month without Patrick and she was still gross-sobbing into her pillow for most of the day.

Harry shifted in his seat next to her and she took notice, watching as he dropped his leg down and brought the opposite one up, gripping onto that ankle with his hand. Emma’s eyes focused on the tattooed skin of his hand. Those hands that used to hold hers and hold her, those hands that touched her and pleased her. His hands were always so strong and she couldn’t stop thinking about how much she ached for what they used to have together.

_“Emmmma…” She heard and her eyes fluttered open._

_Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed much like he always did after he snuck in her window in the middle of the night._

_“Harry?” She questioned, smiling up at him._

_“Hi,” he greeted, smiling back._

_“What are you doing here? Going to the cinema with me tonight wasn’t enough for you?” She asked, smirking wryly at him, a hint of teasing in her voice._

_“That’s exactly it. We saw a film. I didn’t see enough of you,” he said seriously as he leaned down leaving a kiss on her lips._

_“So you snuck in my window?” She asked, feeling a rush of love for him._

_“I wanted to see you. And kiss you,” he told her, kissing her again._

_“Mmm,” she breathed against his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck._

_Harry moved his body so he was lying with her on the bed, half atop her and half on the mattress as their kisses deepened further._

_“You know… we’re going to be in huge trouble if my mum and dad find you in here,” Emma giggled against his lips._

_“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he said, kissing her again._

_Emma giggled into the kiss, giving his tongue a perfect invitation into her mouth as it moved fluidly against her own. She began to feel her body begin to get turned on, tingling from every touch, every kiss. He made it so easy to lose herself in him. She felt his hand push back the blankets, re-situating his body so the only thing between them was their clothing. She loved how warm he felt, how soft his skin was on hers._

_“You’re not wearing much, Emma Haines,” he noted, smirking against her lips as his hand trailed up her bare leg._

_“Maybe I had a subconscious wish for you to come here tonight,” she teased, smirking back at him._

_“Oh. My. God,” he breathed, his eyes wide, his expression full of wonder and excitement. She giggled at his reaction, finding it amusing._

_His lips were back on hers, his hand slowly moving its way up. Her skin burned hot from his touch as his fingers caressed the flesh just above her navel. She so badly wanted him to keep moving up... or down. She wanted him to touch her. She always enjoyed herself so much when she and Harry were fooling around. She loved the excitement and she loved that it was him she was with._

_His hands trailed further up into her loose t-shirt and her breathing hitched wanting more and more. His tickling fingers were agonizing as they slowly inched up. She almost wanted to grab him by the wrist and press his palm against her breast. She wanted his touch so bad._

_“Please, Harry,” she whimpered against his lips, arching her back up toward him. His hand was still right below her breast and she realized he took her whimpering in the wrong sense._

_“Touch me,” she told him, pulling back to look in his eyes._

_“Yeah?” He asked, fascination swirling in his eyes._

_“Please,” she nearly whined._

_Harry’s lips came back down on hers and she felt his hand move its way up, faster than before as his fingers softly skimmed over the flesh of her hardening nipple. Spikes of pleasure shot through her as he did and she couldn’t get over the fact that he was turning her on so much by doing so little. She was nearly sixteen-years-old and she had never felt these kinds of feelings before, but there was something about Harry that really did her in._

_“Emma…” Harry breathed and she opened her eyes to look into his._

_“Hmm,” she hummed._

_“Have you… have you ever thought about it?” He asked apprehensively._

_“About it?” She asked, although she knew what he was referring to because in that moment it was all she could think about._

_“Yeah. I mean… we’ve been dating for a while. We’ve known each other for like ever. I mean… do you think… do you think you’re ready?” He asked and Emma could tell he was nervous._

_He was all too adorable when he was nervous… like when he first asked her out. He was so incredibly endearing when he asked her to be his girlfriend and it made her fall completely for him. This situation was beginning to rival that and Emma couldn’t help but smile up at him. She wanted him forever._

_“Do you think_ you’re _ready?” She countered before actually answering._

_“I mean… yeah. Yeah, I think so,” he said, sitting up on his knees. Emma sat up too, leaning her back against her headboard._

_“For sex?” She questioned, just to be clear._

_“Yeah,” he said, looking up at her, his eyebrows knit in concern, like he was afraid of her chastising him or something._

_She leaned over to him and kissed him, her hands resting on the side of his face. Her kisses were fast and amorous, because she loved him and because she didn’t think she could say the words out loud._

_“Is that a yes?” Harry asked through her kisses. She giggled, pulling back from him._

_His eyes stared into hers as she gripped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head._

_“Yes,” she breathed._

_Harry’s lips turned up into a smile as he leaned forward capturing hers again, pushing her back onto the bed._

__  


“Are you ready?” Emma heard Harry’s voice as his hand came down to pat her knee, snapping her out of her head.

“Oh, uh… umm,” she said, clearing her throat, looking up at him feeling dazed. _It was over? Already?_

“Yeah,” she said, standing up, seeing everyone else around them talking in groups or talking individually with someone from the session.

The two of them stood on their feet as Emma tried to contemplate how she let the whole hour slip by her without comprehension.

“Here,” Harry said, holding out her coat for her and she quietly shrugged it on.

“Well, it is so wonderful that you two have made friends with one another,” Emma heard and her head snapped up to find their counselor Chris smiling back at them.

“Oh. Um,” Harry said, taken aback by the man talking to them.

“Oh. We, uh… we know each other,” Emma told him, looking back at Harry momentarily.

“You do?” He asked, sounding intrigued. Emma groaned internally wishing she didn’t even say anything. She didn’t feel like sharing with him.

“We grew up together,” Emma said, giving him the short answer.

“And you’ve both experienced a loss?” He asked, his smile dropping into a frown of sympathy.

“Yep,” Harry said, sounding uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry to hear it. But what an amazing thing for you two to be able to come together and help each other through such a hard time,” he told them.

“Yeah. We were… we’ve got to go now, but… we’ll be back,” Emma stammered, looking back at Harry again.

“Next week,” Harry added in.

“Yes. Next week,” Emma agreed, feeling a blush in her cheeks.

“I’m glad to hear it. It only gets easier with time,” Chris said, making a pained face at them. All Emma kept thinking was she didn’t need his pity.

“Thanks,” Harry said curtly as Emma felt his hand on the small of her back, ready to lead her out.

“We’ll see you,” Chris said, smiling at them.

“Yeah,” Harry said and maneuvered Emma past the over-zealous therapist.

As they walked out of the church, Harry’s eyebrows were knit and his lips were pursed tightly together. He almost looked angry as he led her to his truck.

“Are you okay?” She asked him.

“I’m _fine_ ,” he said sharply and she sort of cowered from his tense words. But then he sighed and shook his head, letting himself relax a bit.

“I just don’t… I don’t want to talk. I don’t go to those meetings to talk. I don’t want to talk to those damn therapists,” he said, enlightening her.

“Then why do you go?” She asked as they reached the passenger side of the truck.

Harry grabbed onto the door handle and Emma thought he was going to open it for her, but he just stopped, giving her words some real thought.

“I-I thought just by going I’d be able to get my mother and my sister off my back. I don’t want to talk to some shrink that thinks they know what I am going through. They don’t know. They don’t have a dead wife, and a three-year-old daughter at home to take care of. They have no fucking clue what I am going through. How the hell could they possibly help me?” Harry growled out his frustration.

“I know what you mean,” Emma breathed lowly. His eyes looked up into hers, looking softer than before.

“You do,” he stated, giving her a small nod before he finally opened the door for her.

Emma hesitated before she climbed into the passenger side. She felt like there was so much she needed to say, but she couldn’t find the words. Harry shut the door after her and she watched through the windshield as he made his way around to the driver’s side. She didn’t take her eyes off of him as he clambered into the seat next to her, pressing the key into the ignition.

“Do you want to go have a drink with me?” Emma asked him in a sudden bout of courage.

He turned his head to look at her, his eyes not giving anything away. She was afraid he might say ‘no’. She was afraid he was going to break down in front of her.

“I’d like that, Emmy,” he said with a nod and she breathed a sigh of relief.


	7. The Tale of a confused girl

“If I have one more, Harry, I’m gonna be drunk,” Emma said, shaking her finger at him as she sat next to him on a barstool at a random pub he suggested. Harry let out an amused laugh, looking over at her.

“Well, Emma, I think you’re already drunk, my friend,” he snickered, taking another sip of his beer.

“You got me drunk,” Emma grumbled, smirking over at him.

“I got you drunk? Really? Whose idea was this again?” He laughed out loud, looking mildly offended, although she knew he wasn’t – not really.

“I’ll have you know I have yet to take out even one pound from my wallet. It’s you, mister,” she said, poking his bicep with her index finger.

“I can’t make the pretty girl pay,” he scoffed, looking at her incredulously.

“You still think I’m pretty?” Emma asked, looking at him wide-eyed and curious.

“Of course I still think you’re pretty, Emmy. You’re _beautiful_. You’ve only gotten better,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“ _Harry_ ,” she cooed, feeling every vessel in her heart tighten with his words. He chuckled at her reaction.

“Did you really think I could just turn off those kinds of feelings?” He asked quietly, avoiding eye contact altogether.

Emma almost couldn’t breathe at the mention of feelings. It tore at her thinking back to their end – back to the selfish way she just left him and led him on after the fact because she was too much of a coward to tell him she wasn’t coming back. She pushed back the tears that were prickling at her eyes as she bowed her head, looking down at her glass.

The silence was killing her. She wanted to say something. She wanted to say everything she always meant to say. But she wasn’t sure if it would come out right. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and lifted her head to look up at him. His head lifted too and his wondering eyes met hers.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“For what?” He asked curiously.

“For everything. Just… everything,” she sighed, shaking her head.

“Emma…” He breathed lowly.

“No, Harry. I need to… I need to say it. I need… I just need you to know that I never meant to… to hurt you. I never meant to string you along. I just… I couldn’t bear to be the one who broke your heart,” she explained, finding it hard to hold back her emotions.

“It was inevitable,” he said quietly.

“See… I just… I’m so sorry. You have no idea how much I have carried with me all these years… how much of you I have carried with me,” she told him as her chest started to heave slightly as she worked herself up.

“I’ve carried you with me too,” he admitted.

“I just… I’m sorry. I’m gonna cry. I can feel it. I’m sorry,” she said, dabbing at her eyes.

“Don’t cry. I can’t handle seeing you cry, Emma,” he said, sounding slightly alarmed.

“I just… I have so much regret when it comes to you. I don’t think I’ll ever not feel that,” she told him truthfully.

“Hey, just… just, we’ve done this already, remember? We’ve apologized. Can we… can we just enjoy the night?” He suggested, halting their devastating conversation.

“Yeah,” she breathed quietly, looking down at her glass again.

“Okay,” he said quietly, doing the same.

The silence engulfed them once again and Emma knew avoiding the topic of conversation was getting them nowhere, but she didn’t want to tread there again. Not right now.

“Will you excuse me? I’ve just got to make a phone call – you know, about Haven,” Harry said, giving Emma a lopsided smirk.

“Haven?” She questioned, looking at him wide-eyed.

“My daughter,” he reminded her.

“Oh. Oh, right. I-I knew that. You told me that,” she said as a slow sinking feeling established itself in the pit of her stomach, thinking of her own daughter, Madeline.

She was sitting at a bar, drinking with a man she barely knew anymore. What kind of mother was she?

“It’s alright. I just… my mum’s gonna have to keep her for the night since… well, since I’ve been drinking,” Harry said, getting up from his barstool.

“Right,” Emma said, feeling like her mind was a million kilometers away.

She knew she should be allotted some time away from Madeline – some time for herself – but she never felt like she needed it. And now she just felt nothing but guilt for impairing herself like this.

After Harry walked away, Emma pulled out her cell phone from her purse. _Holy shit_ , it was already past midnight. What the hell was she thinking? She quickly texted her mother. She didn’t call because she didn’t want her to hear the slurring in her voice. And it took her many typo corrections to get the text just right – fumbling fingers and all – but she managed.

**_Emma:_ ** _I’m sorry I’m not home yet. I hope you didn’t wait up._

It took a few moments, but her mother responded back.

**_Mum:_ ** _This wouldn’t have to do with that handsome boy who picked you up tonight, would it?_

**_Emma:_ ** _We are just talking. Please drop it._

**_Mum:_ ** _Consider it dropped. I love you, poppet._

**_Emma:_ ** _Give Maddie a kiss for me._

**_Mum:_ ** _I already did. Please try to have a good time._

Emma sighed knowing that the topic of her and Harry would not be dropped by the morning. Her mother was sure to go into _twenty questions_ at breakfast. She meant well, but sometimes she would just like her to take a step back.

“Can I get a water?” Emma asked the bartender after she stowed away her phone.

“A water? Giving up on me already?” Harry asked, smirking at her as he took his stool once again. The bartender poured a glass of water and slid in front of Emma.

“I-I… I can’t believe I drank as much as I did. And it’s late. This was irresponsible,” she said, shaking her head, completely disappointed with herself. Harry let out a deep sigh with her words.

“You know, it’s okay to not be perfect all the time, Emma,” he told her, looking straight into her eyes.

“I’m not—” She started to argue.

“When you’ve been through… what we have, it’s okay to let your guard down. It’s okay to have an off moment or two. It’s okay to just give in every once in a while,” he continued.

“It’s not that easy. I have a daughter to think about,” she said, shaking her head.

“So do I. But I am quite certain she’s not missing me right this second while she’s asleep in bed, Emma. Your daughter – same thing,” he snapped slightly, telling her how it is.

Emma’s blood boiled from his bluntness. Who was he to say her daughter wasn’t missing her? He had no idea.

“Are you about to spout off some bullshit about how your daughter misses you every second, whether you’re with her or not?” He asked, sounding bored as he rolled his eyes passively at her.

Emma opened her mouth to say something, but found she had no words, only letting out a sigh of annoyance.

“I never said you weren’t the center of her world, Emma. You are. I’m just saying that right this second – in the middle of the night – her life it handled, alright. She’s asleep. Your mother is with her. And your mum was one of the best, you know,” he said, giving her a small smile.

Harry was being blunt and slightly inappropriate with his assumptions, but Emma found herself relaxing a bit from his words. If it was anyone else she probably would have slapped him and left the pub already.

“I can’t go home like this,” she breathed.

“You will be forgiven,” he told her.

“ _I_ won’t forgive me,” she countered as she shook her head. Her mind was a mess of lowered inhibitions and loss of control.

“Listen, I don’t live far from here. We can walk. I can make us some coffee and then you can go home without fear of retribution,” he said, his words slightly sarcastic, but it was just one of the many facets of his personality.

“Okay,” she said quietly as she watched the bartender move fluidly behind the bar attending to his other patrons.

It was quite a long time since Emma reached that level of drunkenness, let alone drank any alcohol. Not since before she found out she was pregnant. This was just so unlike her to let her inhibitions down. But if she remembered correctly, Harry always had a way to get her to give in to imperfect moments.

_“The Script is going to be in Manchester, Emmy!” Harry said, coming up to her at her locker after school._

_“What?” She asked him, needing some sort of clarification._

_“The Script! Tonight! In Manchester!” He said, seemingly extra hyped up._

_“Okay,” she said, looking at him wide-eyed, still unsure how this was supposed to affect her._

_“Let’s go!” He said quickly._

_“What? No way,” she scoffed, thinking he was absolutely crazy._

_“Yes, Emma!” He insisted._

_“Harry, I know that The Script is like, your favorite band, but I can’t just go to Manchester with you,” she told him, axing his idea altogether._

_“Why not?” He asked, slumping his shoulders slightly after she shot him down._

_“Because my mum would kill me, for one,” she said, looking at him incredulously._

_“She doesn’t have to know. Tell her you’re going to my house and I’ll tell my mum I’m going to your house. We’ll be back by curfew,” he said, sounding as if he really thought it through. She was certain he could make up and find an excuse for anything._

_“Harry, no,” she said, shaking her head as she closed her locker._

_“Come on, Emmy,” he groaned, sounding exasperated._

_“What if we get caught, Harry?” She asked him._

_“We won’t. Seriously, you need to live a little,” he told her._

_“I live just fine… in Holmes Chapel and not grounded,” she retorted._

_“Emma Rose Haines, stop being little miss perfect and experience the imperfect side of life, which so happens to be the funner side of life,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes at her._

_“More fun,” she corrected him._

_“Yeah. It will be more fun,” he said, getting excited._

_“No. I was correcting you. Funner isn’t a word,” she said, pursing her lips at him._

_“Emma,” he growled through his teeth as he gave her a playful glare._

_“Gahhh. Fine. But I’m totally coming after you when my mum and dad find out,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him._

_“Yah gotta live a little,” he said, smiling widely, obviously pleased with himself that he got her to crack._

__

“What are you smiling about?” Harry asked as they walked silently to his flat, which apparently was only two blocks away.

“Nothing. Well, just… I don’t know. Just how you always had a way of getting me to give in… to everything,” she said, looking up at him with a small smirk on her lips.

“I never made you do anything you didn’t want to do deep down,” he said, snickering to himself.

“No. That is true,” she said quietly.

“We had fun together,” he added.

“We did. I was just thinking about how you got me to take the tube into Manchester to go see The Script,” she said, smiling again at the memory.

“Ha. Yeah,” he laughed out loud.

“And like, the venue was so packed that we couldn’t even get close,” she continued.

“But it was still fun. And we never got caught,” he said, smiling proudly at his adolescent self.

“True. We never did,” she said, nodding her head.

“We had a lot of fun together, Emma,” he said again after a moment of fallen silence.

“We did,” she agreed again, smiling up at him.

“I’m glad we’re here,” he said, and she knew he didn’t mean he was glad about their circumstances which brought them there, but just the fact that they were there – _together_.

“Me too, Harry,” Emma said quietly, watching him bow his head as he walked, but kept the smile on his face.

He was a beautiful man – so incredibly beautiful. And to see his smile after all this time, after all his heartbreak – it meant so much to her.

“Here it is,” he said, slowing his pace before turning toward the door of the nearest building.

Emma snapped out of her thoughts and followed his actions.

“How do you like your coffee?” He asked as he unlocked the outer door.

“Strong,” she told him, thinking the stronger the coffee, the better it would help to sober her up.

Emma followed him up two flights of stairs and watched as he unlocked the door to flat 3B.

When Harry opened the door and flipped on the light, Emma couldn’t help but be completely caught off guard at the sight of his flat. It was not what she was expecting at all. She knew he had a daughter, but in her head she still pictured him living in some sort of bachelor pad. Instead, there were finger paintings and drawings lining the walls, dolls and a play kitchen set taking up a good chunk of the living room, and pictures of a curly haired chubby cheeked little girl all over the place.

“Is that… is that Haven?” Emma asked, pointing at a large portrait of the adorable girl.

“That’s my Haven,” he said with a proud smile on his face as he took off his jacket and hung it on a hook by the door.

“Oh my god, Harry. She is… she’s perfect,” Emma said, looking back at him as she shrugged off her coat and he took it from her, hanging it next to his.

“Thank you. She’s got me wrapped completely around her finger,” he said, smirking bashfully.

Emma’s heart flourished for him. The thought of their amazing father/daughter relationship did all sorts of things to her – something she never got to see with her husband and their daughter because he left them so suddenly.

Harry cleared his throat and Emma realized that the admiring stare down she was giving him made him uncomfortable.

“So, coffee…” He said awkwardly.

“Right,” she said and watched him walk toward the kitchen.

She didn’t follow, wanting to look at the rest of the pictures that were displayed on the walls. She was struck immobile when she came across a picture of Harry and what must have been his wife, Hannah.

She was so beautiful. She had long brown hair, just like Emma and similar hazel eyes, ones that she could see in resemblance when looking at the photos of Haven. Emma felt a lump form in her throat as she gazed at the picture – at the tragedy of it all. Harry and Haven were alone – having a part of them ripped away so unfairly.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to burst into tears as her whole heart filled with empathy, but she choked them back, knowing it would be the last thing Harry wanted to deal with. He didn’t need her reminding him of what he lost.

Emma took a step back away from the wall just as Harry walked out from the kitchen. His eyes stared questioningly into hers.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“I-I’m fine,” she squeaked out and watched as his eyes found the picture she was just staring at. He took a deep steady breath and let it out, shaking his head slightly. Emma bit her lip because she didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she whispered.

“I just… it’s… you know…” He stammered, looking down at the ground.

“Harry, I know,” she said, taking a step toward him.

His eyes came up to search hers and she felt it – she felt that spark they always had. The spark that apparently never left. Desire flooded her body for him and she knew in the moment how wildly inappropriate it was, but with the lowered inhibitions, she didn’t seem to care. Harry’s words looped in her mind.

_It’s okay to not be perfect all the time._

Emma placed her hand on Harry’s chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. And even though she was the one making the move, her breathing still hitched in her throat.

“Emma,” Harry breathed, his eyes never leaving hers and hers never left his. They were having a whole conversation without saying a word.

Harry’s hand came up and slid his finger smoothly through the front of her hair, tucking the strands loosely behind her ear. Emma was aching for him to kiss her. She wanted him so badly to kiss her. She _needed_ it. But he was being so cautious, moving so slowly. His head moved forward, but only millimeters, causing her body to almost quiver under his gaze.

“Harry,” she nearly whimpered.

With that, he crashed his lips hard against hers and his hand wrapped around the back of her neck, tangling in her hair, his other tugging her body to his. Emma whimpered against his lips as the kiss deepened exponentially in a matter of seconds. Her fingers were gripping tightly to the front of his t-shirt as he pulled her closer and closer to his body. She wanted this. She wanted him.

Her hands came down to push up the hem of his shirt with the heels of her palms and he quickly reached back, taking matters into his own hands. He pulled at the back of the shirt’s collar and ripped it off his body, breaking their kiss only momentarily. Emma’s hands moved over his exposed flesh, seeing for the first time all of the tattoos that peppered his chest and left arm. It was so sexy and only helped to feed her budding desire.

Harry’s fingers worked up into the back of Emma’s shirt as his fingertips tickled her flesh and it made her want to be naked with him. She wanted him like she had him many times before – before they were nothing to each other. Back when he was her _everything_.

“Harry,” Emma whimpered against his lips and he let out a low groan as his hands wrapped around the back of her thighs, pulling her up into his arms.

He kissed her the whole time he carried her to his bedroom with the dark sheets and pale white walls. The rest of their clothes were strategically removed and tossed haphazardly onto his floor. Harry’s heated kisses that stretched from her head to her toes were sending her over the edge – so much so that she thought she might explode if he took one more second to worship her body.

“ _Please_ ,” she whimpered and Harry knew what she needed.

His eyes found hers, the same hunger and desire reflected back to him. Nothing could stop them now – they were like a speeding freight train without brakes. Emma wasn’t stopping and neither was he.

When Harry finally pushed inside of her, Emma’s whole body welcomed him as a low moan emanated from her throat. Harry’s face was buried in the crook of her neck, kissing and teasing her with his mouth as his lower half moved swiftly in and out of her, already building her up to her brink.

Emma held him tightly as her body shook for him, letting out a low cry.

“ _Fuck_ , Emma,” Harry groaned in her ear as his rhythm grew faster and faster.

Harry’s moans soon became grunts and Emma knew he was close. She gripped onto his backside, pressing him deeper into her and he let go with a loud groan, his chest heaving with exhaustion. As soon as he was done, he collapsed half on top of her and half on the mattress, before completely rolling off of her onto his back.

As Emma’s breathing started to go back to normal, her mind finally registered just what it all meant – the fact that Patrick was no longer the last man she was with. Panic rose in her chest as tears built in their ducts. She knew she couldn’t continue living her life in her husband’s memory, but still it was all too much for her to handle. Her hands came up to her face as she pressed the heels of her palms into her eye sockets, trying to dam her tears.

“Emma,” Harry whispered, turning toward her.

“Forgive me,” she whimpered.

“Emmy…” Harry’s voice came out softer and more sympathetic.

“I don’t want to cry, but my emotions… I’m sorry. I just… it’s not you, Harry. I’m sorry,” she said, pulling her hands away from her eyes, looking over at him.

“It’s okay, Emma,” he said, looking at her sadly.

“I just… this… this shouldn’t have happened. Not right now,” she told him and he let out a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out.

“It’s okay, Emma,” he said, his voice a little colder, but she knew he was still trying to be the nice guy.

She choked out a sob as she sat up, scrambling to the opposite side of the mattress.

“I don’t want to hurt you. But every time… I can’t… I don’t mean to—” She cried into her hands.

“Emma, it’s okay. You weren’t ready,” he said softly.

“But I really feel like a part of me was. And then there’s just this other part of me that feels so much guilt over it already,” she told him.

“Please don’t cry. I can’t handle seeing you cry,” Harry said sweetly as he got out of the bed and knelt in front of her, his boxer briefs already replaced on his body.

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping at her eyes.

“Please, Emmy. Just… just don’t let this ruin… things,” he said, placing his fingers under her chin to force her to look him in the eyes.

“I…” She choked out.

“I love getting to know you again. Your presence has helped me so much with… with the coping,” he confessed. Emma’s face scrunched up as more tears broke free from her eyes.

“Please, Emmy. Don’t cry,” he said, reaching up to wipe her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He stood up and pulled her into his arms, hugging her naked body tightly to his.

“We’re going to be okay,” he breathed in her ear, and somehow she knew she should believe him.


	8. The tale of a miserable girl

“Emma…” She heard her mother’s soft voice.

She looked up to see her standing in the doorway of her daughter’s bedroom where she sat by the crib.

“What are you doing, love? It’s nearly three in the morning,” her mum asked, a look of concern on her face.

“I just… I missed her,” Emma sniffled, wiping at her eyes as she watched Madeline sleeping in her crib.

“Why are you crying, honey?” She asked sweetly as she moved into the room toward her.

“Mum…” Emma cried, dropping her face into her hands, feeling another wave of emotion hit her.

“Oh, baby. What’s the matter?” She asked, kneeling down in front of her.

“Mum, I really screwed up,” Emma cried, looking up at her as she tried to stop her rapid flow of tears.

“What happened?” She asked patiently.

“Harry… I-I… I crossed the line,” Emma whimpered.

“Tell me,” she said, swiping Emma’s hair out of her eyes.

Emma looked over at Madeline who was perfectly content in her crib, not a care in the world as she slept soundly. She didn’t have the heart to confess what she needed to confess in front of her. She couldn’t talk about disgracing her father’s memory while she was in the same room.

“Not in here,” Emma said, shaking her head as she stood up.

“Come on. I’ll make you some tea,” her mum offered.

Emma stopped in the bathroom to clean herself up a little while her mother went down to the kitchen. She couldn’t get what she did with Harry out of her head, and she couldn’t seem to get her tears to stop. Every little memory of Harry just made the tears fall harder.

Emma made her way down to the kitchen just in time to find her mother pouring boiling water into two mugs that each held a tea bag of the sleepy-time tea they both loved so much. Emma took a seat at the table waiting for her to finish.

“Here you go, baby,” her mum said as she set down the mugs and a box of tissues on the tabletop.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, wiping at a stray tear.

“Please, baby. Please tell me what’s got you in such a tizzy,” she said, sitting down across from Emma at the breakfast table.

“I slept… I slept with him. I slept with Harry. And… and now… now Patrick… now it’s not Patrick… I-I… I feel like… I feel…” Emma blubbered almost incoherently.

“Baby, baby. Calm down,” her mum said, running her hand up and down her daughter’s arm.

“I just… I can’t believe I did it. I can’t believe I let… that we… _uhhh_ ,” Emma cried, frustrated with herself.

“Emma Rose, please stop with this now. Baby, you and Harry have always had a connection…” She began.

“I don’t give a shit about our connection right now! Patrick – he’s gone and he’s never coming back. And I’ve… I’ve disgraced him,” Emma shouted.

“Stop this!” Her mum bellowed, hitting her hand against the table, her frustration boiling over.

Emma’s tear-filled eyes snapped up to hers, completely startled by her outburst.

“I’m sorry, but you need to stop this, baby. Patrick is gone and you are here. You cannot live a life when you’re trapped in his memory. It was a terrible thing that happened to him and I know you loved him so much, honey. I know that. But how long are we going to have to sit back and watch you suffer – to watch you ruin your life? You can’t let this define you.”

Emma’s heart was in her throat as she stared at her mother. She was frozen in shock.

“You _cannot_ let this define you, Emma. Because you know what – soon it will start to define your daughter too,” her mum told her. Emma’s anger was ready to consume her until she brought Madeline into it. She was her weakness.

Emma’s face dropped into her hands and she began to cry into them again.

“Patrick loved you so much, baby. And he wouldn’t want you to live like this. He wouldn’t want you to quit living along with him,” she spoke softer.

“How… how do I just let him go?” Emma cried, looking up into her eyes.

“Let Harry help you,” she told her finally.

All Emma could do was stare at her. Her mouth hung open and she just stared. _Let Harry help her?_ She wished she knew how.

_“Emma,” Harry said, coming up from behind her as she was leaving the school yard to walk home._

_“Harry!” Emma yelped, holding her hand over her chest, completely startled by him._

_“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, smiling sweetly at her._

_“It’s alright,” she told him with a smile in reply._

_“Can I walk with you?” He asked, bouncing his eyebrows at her._

_“Of course,” she told him just as he slipped his hand in hers._

_“Can you believe the school year is almost over?” He asked after a few beats of silence._

_“Yeah. It’s crazy,” she said quietly, feeling the guilt weighing on her._

_She still hadn’t told him she was leaving after the summer; that she was accepted into a prestigious boarding school in London. For two weeks she kept the secret to herself. Only her family knew. She didn’t know how to break it to him. She didn’t want to leave him, but she knew how amazing the opportunity was and she didn’t want to pass it up._

_“Do you have schoolwork?” He asked as they walked hand-in-hand through their neighborhood._

_“Not much. I did most of it in class,” she said with a small shrug of her shoulder._

_“Mind if I come over then?” He asked, cocking his eyebrow at her._

_“Of course I don’t mind,” she told him and watched the smile take over his features._

_“Good,” he said, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on her lips._

_“Only if we can do plenty of that,” Emma giggled as soon as he pulled away._

_“Gladly!” Harry shouted as he quickly gripped her around the waist before lifting her off her feet to spin her in his arms._

_“Harry!” She yelped and giggled._

_He stopped after a few more spins and slowly slid her down his body, her feet touching the ground once again as their eyes connected immediately._

_“I love you, Emmy,” he breathed, and the butterflies consumed her, but so did the guilt._

_How could she tell the boy she was head-over-heels in love with that she was leaving; that they won’t get the chance to see each other every day; that they won’t get to touch or kiss or love each other the same way anymore? How was she going to break that to him?_

_“What’s the matter, Em?” Harry asked as his eyes registered her change in demeanor._

_“Nothing,” she said quietly._

_His arms loosened around her and she took the opportunity to slide out of them, turning to continue walking down the road toward home._

_“Emma Rose! What the hell?” She heard Harry call out after her as he jogged to catch up._

_“What is going on?” He asked as he grasped her arm, stopping her in place._

_She couldn’t look at him – not when she could feel the tears prickling the back of her eyes._

_“Emma…” Harry breathed._

_“I’m sorry,” she sighed as she looked down at the pavement under her feet._

_“For what? Emma, what is going on?” He asked, his voice becoming more impatient._

_“I’m leaving,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion._

_“You’re… leaving?” He asked, sounding confused._

_“At the end of summer,” she elaborated._

_“At the end of summer, you’re leaving?” He questioned._

_“Yes, Harry. I’m leaving,” she said impatiently._

_She wished they didn’t have to do this. She wished he just knew everything – how she felt about him; how much he meant to her; how badly it broke her heart every time she thought about leaving him._

_“Where are you going?” He choked out._

_Her eyes finally looked up into his, and it tore her apart. The look of confusion and heartbreak on his face was literally killing her._

_“I got—” She began before her voice cracked with emotion and she had to clear her throat._

_“I got accepted into a boarding school… in London,” she finally told him._

_“London?” He choked out._

_“Yeah. I just… It’s just an amazing opportunity, Harry. It’s going to be so good for me,” she began to explain, trying to be optimistic._

_“Yeah, wow. That’s great, Em,” Harry said quietly. But his words almost sounded fake, like he was just saying what he thought she wanted to hear. The emotion in his voice gave him away all too easy._

_She wanted to make him feel better about it. She wanted everything to be okay. So she just started talking, trying to drown out both of their emotions._

_“You and I – we can still be us, Harry. We can talk all the time, and write letters. And… and I’ll visit all the time. You know I will,” she told him enthusiastically._

_“Yeah,” he breathed, his eyes avoiding hers altogether._

_“We’ve got the summer,” she tried to reassure him._

_“Yeah,” he said quietly._

_“Harry…” Emma sighed, noticing how tore up he actually was about the news._

_“Please, Harry. I’m so sorry,” she said as the tears that threatened previously finally made an appearance in her eyes._

_“No, Em. Don’t—don’t apologize. This is gonna be great for you,” he said, finally looking up at her with a smile on his face. But it wasn’t his usual smile. It was a painted smile to mask the sadness._

_“Harry…” Emma breathed._

_“It’s okay, Emmy,” he whispered._

_“Harry, tell me that things are going to work out,” she said quietly._

_“You’re gonna visit. And maybe… maybe I’ll be able to come out to London,” Harry offered, and it made her smile because he was being so optimistic for her._

_“Yeah,” she whispered._

_“We could… we could go visit like, Buckingham Palace and Big Ben, you know. Take a boat ride down the Thames. Ride the London Eye together,” Harry suggested and all she could do was nod along, wanting to do all those things with him._

_“Yeah. Yeah, we could do that,” she told him._

_“It’s going to be okay, Emmy,” Harry reassured her._

_Emma stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as she leaned in for a kiss._

_“I love you so much, Harry Styles,” she told him, and meant every word._

Harry never came to London and they never did anything they planned to do together. Life got busy for both of them and the years pulled them apart. Everything bent until it broke, and they were left with an irreparable rift between them.

Thus was life.

There was a knock on Emma’s bedroom door as she was putting the last of her makeup on for the night.

“Emma,” she heard her mother just as she turned to see her standing in her doorway.

“I’m almost ready,” Emma told her.

“Harry… he’s here,” she said, giving her a wary look.

“Harry’s _here?”_ She choked out as her eyes went wide.

“He came to pick you up for therapy,” she said, looking at her cautiously, like she was trying to gage her reaction.

“Okay,” Emma breathed, feeling almost light-headed.

She hadn’t spoken to Harry since she left his flat a week before. She was certain if their paths crossed while they were at therapy, it was going to be awkward. Maybe this was Harry’s way to break down the walls between them. A large part of her feared she really hurt him by leaving his flat so abruptly after they slept together. She didn’t actually know. She didn’t bother to look back once she got into the cab, leaving him in her wake. But now he was at her house, picking her up, like they were going on some fucked-up date to cry over their dead spouses. She didn’t know how to feel about it.

Emma grabbed Madeline out of the playpen that was next to her bed and made her way downstairs. Her mother was already back down there, and was talking animatedly with Harry in the foyer.

“You are just so handsome, Harry. Just really, really handsome,” Emma heard her tell him, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes amusingly.

“Okay, okay, Mum. We get it – Harry’s good looking,” Emma laughed lightly as she came down the stairs.

“Em…” Harry breathed as his eyes followed her all the way down.

“Hi, Harry,” she said quietly.

“This must be Madeline,” he said, smiling at her once she was standing in front of him with her daughter in her arms.

“It is,” she told him.

“She’s beautiful, Emma,” he cooed as he tucked his finger inside her tiny little hand.

Something about the small gesture did things to Emma. It both elated her and made her want to puke at the same time.

“You look just like your mummy, don’t you?” He said, speaking directly to Maddie.

Emma looked up at her mother, who gave her a knowing look, and it made Emma suck in a huge breath, making her light-headed in the process.

“I uh, I didn’t know you would… I didn’t think you’d show up here,” she stammered, looking back at Harry.

“Yeah. Well, I figured we’re going to the same place. I mean, Piper doesn’t need to go out of her way to drive you every week. I don’t live too far away from here,” Harry rambled, and Emma could tell he was nervous.

“That was thoughtful of you, Harry – two weeks in a row,” her mum said, causing both of their attention to fall on her.

“It’s the least I can do,” he said as he pushed his hands into his coat pockets.

“Let me take Maddie,” her mum said, grabbing for her granddaughter.

“Oh… okay,” Emma said, handing the baby over before grabbing her coat and putting it on.

“You two… go on,” she shooed them.

Emma looked up at Harry and he quirked his eyebrow at her.

“Ready?” He asked.

“I just… I just need my purse,” Emma told him as she pointed toward the kitchen.

“Alright,” he said with a nod.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, before she made her way into the other room.

Emma took a deep breath as soon as she was out of Harry’s presence. She hated that she felt so awkward. She longed for the way things were between them when they were kids. Harry was everything to her back then. She missed so much about him, but she didn’t know how to act around him anymore – not with so many different feelings mucking up their current friendship.

“Harry, would you like to come over for dinner sometime this week? I just picked up some fresh salmon at the grocery store today,” Emma heard her mum ask Harry as she walked back into the foyer.

“Mother—” Emma snapped at her.

“What?” She asked, looking at her daughter wide-eyed.

“I’d love to. I mean… if that’s okay with Emma,” Harry said, looking over at her for permission.

“Uh…” Emma hesitated, looking at him, feeling a bit shell-shocked.

“Emma Rose!” Her mum yelped, smacking her arm.

“It’s fine, Harry. We’d love it if you came for dinner,” Emma said finally as she rubbed at her arm.

“I’d be honored to spend an evening with the Haines women,” Harry said, beaming a smile at the two of them. Emma felt her face flush. She was no longer a _Haines_ and it made her feel awkward.

“Does tomorrow night work for you?” Her mum asked enthusiastically.

“ _Jesus,_ ” Emma said under her breath because of the way her mother was pushing.

“Tomorrow night works just fine,” Harry said, smiling at her, before cocking his eyebrow at Emma.

She wasn’t quite sure why her mother thought it was a good idea to invite him to dinner. But she was almost certain her endgame consisted of Emma and Harry living happily ever after. Though to be quite honest, Emma didn’t know how happy either of their endings would be.


	9. The tale of a hesitant girl

“Do not—whatever you do, do not bring up his wife, please. He’s told me on more than one occasion that he’s not ready to talk about her,” Emma told her mother as they were preparing for their dinner with Harry.

“He hasn’t told you what happened?” Her mum asked curiously.

“No. I just know her name,” Emma said quietly.

“Oh?” She said, looking at Emma expectantly.

“Hannah – her name is… uh, was Hannah,” Emma told her mother.

“What a beautiful name,” her mum said.

“She _was_ beautiful,” Emma told her and regretted it as soon as it slipped out of her mouth. She felt like she was gossiping and she hated herself for it.

“He showed you pictures?”

“I-I… no. When I was at his flat… he has pictures. Of both his wife and daughter,” Emma said sheepishly.

“He has a daughter? _Oh_ , Emma,” she cooed, placing her hands over her heart like it was breaking.

“Yes. Haven. She’s three,” Emma told her as she pulled out plates from the cupboard so she could set the table.

“Oh. Little love,” her mother sighed.

“I don’t feel right talking about them,” Emma said quietly as she pulled the silverware drawer open.

“Okay,” her mother told her.

Emma walked into the dining room and began setting the table.

“Have you told him about Patrick?” Her mother asked as she came up behind her carrying four wine glasses in her hands before placing them carefully at each place setting.

“He knows I had a husband who died in a car accident,” Emma explained as her chest tightened with anxiety.

A moment later, she felt her mother’s hand on her arm from behind her.

“I’m so sorry you two are going through this, poppet. I know how hard it is to lose a spouse,” she said and Emma’s anger spiked as she twisted out of her mother’s grasp.

“Yeah, but you had daddy for twenty-six years before you lost him,” she snapped.

“I know, love. I know,” her mother said calmly.

“I only had a handful of years… Madeline didn’t even—” Emma choked out, her tears causing the words to get stifled.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m so sorry,” her mother said, pulling her into her arms, holding her tightly as she cried.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know losing Daddy was hard too. I’m sorry,” Emma said when she finally felt composed enough to pull back from her mother’s embrace.

“I know, love. I know,” her mother said, looking at her empathetically.

“I… uh, I need to go… freshen up. Harry’s going to be here soon and I don’t need to look like a blubbering mess,” Emma said, excusing herself from her mother.

She took the stairs up two-by-two and went directly for the loo. She already knew her makeup was a mess from crying and it was confirmed when she looked at herself in the mirror.

“ _Bloody hell_ ,” she grumbled as she swiped her fingers below her eyes to rid herself of the teary black makeup.

A moment later, she had to take a deep breath and compose herself because she thought about it all again – Harry and Hannah; her and Patrick; their sweet little girls growing up with only half of their parents. It was too much. Why couldn’t she control her emotions, tonight of all nights? The night Harry would be coming to dinner. It frustrated her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Emma hissed as she pressed her hands against the sides of the sink basin and dropped her head down. She really needed to get it together.

“Okay. _One, two, three_ …” Emma said to herself before taking in a deep breath, letting it out hard.

Finally she was able to reapply her makeup and make it downstairs to finish helping her mother get dinner ready.

“ _Oh!_ Harry…” Emma gasped, startled by his presence, but even more startled by the fact that he was holding Madeline in his arms.

“Hi. Emmy…” Harry said, looking up at her with his big green eyes as she came down the staircase.

“Did you… did, uh…” Emma stammered, wondering where her mother was.

“Your mum had to do something in the kitchen so she handed me this little love,” he said, smiling at Madeline in his arms. Emma couldn’t help but find it incredibly endearing, especially when Maddie smiled from ear-to-ear at him before reaching up to touch his face.

“ _Aww_ ,” Harry cooed at her.

“Here you are, Harry. Oh, Emma…” Her mum said as she brought Harry a beer.

“I can… I can take her,” Emma said, pulling Madeline gently out of Harry’s arms.

“Thank you,” Harry said to Emma’s mother, Jeanette as he took the bottle of beer.

“Piper should be here any minute,” Jeanette told the two of them.

“She’s always late,” Emma said with a small smirk just as the front door opened.

“Hi, hi! Sorry I’m late. Traffic was a nightmare. Hiya, Harry,” Piper said, smiling at the handsome man standing in the front entry with the rest of them.

“Hiya, Pipes,” Harry said, leaning in to give her a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Dinner is ready when you are,” Jeanette told them.

“Okay. Um, are you hungry?” Emma asked Harry.

“I am,” he said with a light laugh and the two of them followed her mother into the dining room with Piper close behind them.

Emma placed Madeline in the baby bouncer next to her seat at the table before sitting down with Harry to her right and Piper to her left at the small dining room table.

“So, Harry, how’ve yah been?” Piper asked as they began to dish up their food after their mum said a quick prayer.

“Uh, okay,” he said, looking like he felt a bit awkward. Emma knew everything wasn’t satisfactory in his world, but he was doing pretty well given the circumstances.

“It’s so lovely to hear you and Emma are spending time together again. Even though it’s not the ideal situation either of you want to be in… you know, with _everything_ ,” Piper rambled before taking a large sip of her wine.

Emma looked up at Piper, trying to send her some sort of message to tell her to shut her trap – to just get her to stop talking before she said something to make everyone uncomfortable. But Piper was oblivious to her sister’s annoyance.

“Uh, yeah…” Harry said quietly, looking down at his plate. Emma couldn’t help but cringe. She knew he was absolutely miserable, but for some reason Piper didn’t register it.

“You lost your spouse too?” Piper asked, causing Emma to nearly choke on the sip of wine she took.

She could feel the discomfort radiation off of Harry. She knew his stance on talking about his wife – that he wouldn’t or _couldn’t_. Emma warned her mum, but so stupidly forgot to warn her nosey sister.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry said, clearing his throat just before he took a sip of his wine.

“ _Piper_ —” Emma mumbled under her breath, sending her sister a glare, hoping she’d get the hint and shut her mouth.

“How’s your mum, Harry?” Jeanette chimed in, changing the subject and all Emma could feel was relief.

“She, uh… she’s great,” Harry said, smiling at their mum.

“Wonderful. Please send her my love,” Jeanette told him.

“Uh, yeah. I will. She’s actually watching my daughter tonight,” Harry said, changing the subject again.

Emma was almost elated to hear him open up and share with her family. She felt like it was such a big step for him and she was quite proud.

“You have a daughter?” Piper choked out, looking shocked to hear such news.

“Uh, yeah. I, uh… her name is Haven and she’s three,” Harry said, sending Piper a sideways smile.

“Oh, bless her,” Jeanette chimed in.

“ _Aww_. Do you have a picture of her?” Piper asked him, looking more than intrigued.

“Yeah, uh…” Harry said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to swipe through it. A moment later, he handed it to Piper.

“Oh my god, Harry. Oh my god. She is gorgeous,” Piper gushed as she stared down at the picture.

“She has your curls,” Piper added. Emma smiled over at Harry and he smiled back at her.

“Let me see,” their mum chimed in, making grabby-fingers at her daughter before Piper handed the phone over to her.

“Oh, Harry. She is absolutely beautiful,” Jeanette told him as she looked down at the photo.

“Thank you,” Harry said and Emma could see the blush rising in his cheeks.

When her mum handed her the phone, she quietly looked down at the beautiful girl, feeling an ache in her heart. Although she looked like Harry, she also held so much of her mother in her features and it tore at Emma to know she would never know her mother, much like Madeline would never know her father. It just wasn’t fair.

Emma passed the phone back to Harry and a moment later Madeline let out a happy squeal from the bouncer she was in. All of their eyes cut to the baby and they couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you having fun, Maddie? Are you having fun?” Emma cooed at her and earned a laugh out of her daughter.

When Emma looked back up, she noticed Harry watching her with a fond smile on his face and she couldn’t help the blush that crept up her cheeks.

When dinner was finished, Jeanette recruited Harry to look at the furnace because it was making a ‘terrible’ sound. Emma protested right away, but Harry insisted it wasn’t a problem. As Piper and Emma cleared the table, Emma couldn’t help but have a little chat with her sister.

“Why did you bring up his wife?” Emma asked her quietly.

“I dunno. It just slipped out,” Piper said, looking at her big sister with vulnerable eyes.

“He’s not ready to talk about her. He’s told me on more than one occasion that he’s not ready,” Emma chastised her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Piper told her.

“Please, just don’t bring it up again,” Emma sighed.

“I won’t. I’m sorry. I know it’s hard,” Piper said, looking at her sister with the saddest eyes.

“It _is_ hard,” Emma said, clearing her throat to stifle the tears that were threatening.

“I’m really glad you two have each other, Em,” Piper told her sincerely.

“ _Mm_ ,” Emma said, cleaning off the plates into the bin.

“I really hope it helps you… you two grieving together,” Piper told her softly.

“Just… _please_ ,” Emma hissed as her eyes welled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Piper breathed.

A moment later, their mother and Harry walked back into the kitchen and Emma quickly moved in front of the sink, rinsing off the dishes so they wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

Harry was sharing a story about a winter when his mum’s furnace quit working during the coldest days of the year and she was forced to stay with Gemma in her flat for nearly a week before she could get someone to come out to fix it. Jeanette let out a howl of a laugh.

“Lord, help me if that happens. I don’t think Piper would appreciate the three of us invading her space for that long,” Jeanette exclaimed.

“No, I would not. I would probably pitch in for a hotel,” Piper chimed in, causing her mother to laugh again.

“You hear that, Emma. Your sister wouldn’t take us in if the furnace broke,” her mum told her.

“ _Mm_ ,” Emma said, unable to turn around because she was in the middle of trying to rein in her emotions.

“You wouldn’t take in this beautiful baby girl?” Jeanette said as she picked up her granddaughter.

“Oh, Maddie is more than welcome,” Piper snickered.

“Oh, how nice of you,” Jeanette said sarcastically.

Emma quietly began making Madeline her bottle, knowing it was about time to put her to bed. It was a good enough excuse not to be a part of their conversation. She felt awful that she was being quite antisocial while Harry was there, but her mood was a bit off and she didn’t know how to rectify it.

By the time she had the bottle of breast milk warmed, she felt okay enough to turn around and collect her daughter.

“I’ve uh, I should feed Maddie,” Emma said, timidly looking up at Harry before she reached for the baby out of her mother’s arms.

“Oh, I can do that, love,” Jeanette told her.

“It’s okay. I want to,” Emma told her as she pulled Madeline out of her grandmother’s arms and walked toward the kitchen door.

“Harry, why don’t you keep Emma company,” she heard her mother tell him and it made her stomach turn with anticipation, but she wasn’t sure why.

As Emma sat down on the couch, she looked up to see Harry coming into the living room. She couldn’t tell if he was happy or bored or completely over the whole night altogether, but he wasn’t running away, so she wasn’t going to push him away.

“I miss this stage,” Harry said sweetly as he sat down on the couch with Emma.

“What? The baby stage?” Emma asked curiously.

“Yeah. It felt like it flew by like… _that_ ,” Harry said, snapping his fingers.

“Do you… do you want to feed her?” Emma asked, offering up her baby so he could relive the glory days of fatherhood. Harry let out a little laugh before nodding his head.

“Sure. I’d love that,” he said as Emma carefully placed the baby in his arms.

“Here,” Emma said, placing the burp cloth over Maddie’s belly and the bottle in Harry’s hand before he quickly brought it back up to her mouth.

Emma couldn’t help but smile as she watched Harry feed her baby. Madeline stared up at him, gripping his finger between hers and it took all Emma had not to just breakdown and cry. It didn’t take long before Madeline’s eyes grew heavy and she quietly fell asleep in Harry’s arms as she finished off her bottle.

“She’s such a calm baby,” Harry told Emma softly.

“Oh, yeah. I’m a bit worried about how she’s going to be as a teenager though. I’ve got an angel now, but they say if they’re a good baby then they’re usually more rambunctious down the road,” Emma laughed.

“I haven’t heard that one,” Harry said, smiling at her.

“It’s an old wives tale,” Emma said, waving it off.

“Haven was a very colicky baby. I remember she wouldn’t stop crying, like ever. But Hannah… she was always so calm with her. She’d rock her for hours, I swear. I didn’t have as much patience as she did. She was… she was… special,” Harry said, looking down at the sleeping infant in his arms.

Emma’s heart wrenched for Harry and Haven, and Maddie too. They all lost someone so special to them. It was a terrible thing and utterly unfair.

“Haven’s lucky to have you,” Emma told him after a beat. Harry looked up at her, just staring back into her eyes before a small smile turned up his lips.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Emma said with a nod of her head.

“I think this little one is quite lucky herself,” Harry said, gently stroking Madeline’s cheek as she slept.

“You’re the baby whisperer,” Emma told him quietly.

“Or something like that,” he said, smiling over at her.

“I should… I should probably get her to bed,” Emma told him.

“Oh… yeah,” he said, leaning over to try to hand Madeline off to Emma. Madeline stirred before letting out a whimper, causing Harry to pause and let out a quiet _“oh”_.

“Maybe, uh… do you want me to bring her up?” Harry asked, looking at Emma quizzically.

“Uh, yeah… sure,” Emma said as she stood up from the couch.

Harry carefully stood up, cradling Madeline delicately in his arms, being sure not to disturb her too much. Emma was in awe at how great he did with her.

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit,” Emma told him with a light smile.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“You are quite patient. A proper daddy. I can tell,” Emma said, smirking at him.

“Yeah?” Harry asked, beaming a smile back at her.

“Definitely,” Emma said as she walked toward the staircase.

“Thanks,” Harry said quietly. The two of them walked up the stairs together before Harry took the lead at the top.

“Uh, my old room,” Emma told him and Harry let out a snicker.

“What of it?” Emma asked, smiling at him when he sent her a mischievous smirk.

“Better be careful about all those lads sneaking in that window for her to come out and play,” Harry said, sending Emma a playful wink.

“I’ve got years before I have to worry about that,” Emma countered, smirking at him.

“Fourteen to be exact,” he said, smiling mischievously.

“Yeah,” Emma said quietly, thinking back on the first time Harry showed up at that very window.

_Emma lay in bed thinking of the boy with green eyes and side-swept curly brown hair. The boy with craters for dimples and a big toothy grin. The boy she called a friend, but also the boy who she hoped would see her as more. Harry Styles. He’d turned into a proper babe almost overnight and she couldn’t help but notice. And now on the cusp of their fifteenth summer, she kind of hoped maybe the two of them might develop into something more._

_When she heard a light knock on her bedroom window, she froze in her bed – her heart beating wildly in her chest, fear spreading through her. Her bedroom window was on the second floor – who or what was out there? Was it a mad-man coming to kidnap her? She was absolutely terrified._

_She heard the knock again and held her breath, trying not to make any noise to indicate to the madman that there was anyone in there._

_“Emmy…” She heard a whisper and her eyes widened. Harry?_

_“Oh my god,” she breathed lowly._

_What on earth was he doing there? Did she somehow make him magically appear just by thinking of him? She knew it was absurd, but why in the holy hell was he there? At her house? Were they close enough to be sneaking to each other’s houses in the middle of the night? She didn’t think so, but apparently he did._

_“Emmy, are you awake?” She heard him ask through the window._

_“Harry?” Emma whispered loudly as she got out of bed and pulled back the curtains._

_Harry sat on the porch roof right outside her window, smiling at her._

_“What are you doing here?” She asked as she unlatched the window lock and opened it._

_“Hi, Emmy,” he said, his smile only getting wider._

_“Hi, Harry,” she said, unable to hold back her own smile._

_“Sleeping?” He asked as he quirked an eyebrow._

_“Mm. Trying,” she said before realizing he was looking down at her scantily clad bedroom attire. She wore only an oversized t-shirt and panties, and she was slowly realizing how inappropriate it was._

_“What are you doing here?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, only to find it made the shirt ride up to her panty line._

_She had quite the dilemma going on. Let him ogle over her nipples protruding through her t-shirt or let him have a free peep at her pink panties? Oh, god. What was he doing there?_

_“I came to get you,” Harry told her matter-of-factly._

_“You came to get me?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow as she dropped her arms away from her chest, realizing her wardrobe situation could not be helped without making a complete scene by kicking him out. And she didn’t want to kick him out._

_“Yeah. There’s a… a sort of celebration… an end-of-the-year kind of party happening down by the river,” Harry told her._

_“A party?” She asked curiously._

_“Yes. Some of the older classmen from school are having a fire and there’s a proper party going on,” he explained._

_“Oh,” she said, looking behind him out her window down onto the quiet street. She knew she wouldn’t be able to see or even hear the party since the river was quite a jaunt south from her house, but it didn’t stop her from looking. And then it dawned on her…_

_“But you live… you live by the river…” Emma said, her mouth going dry. Did he make a special trip just to get her?_

_“Yeah. That’s how I know it’s going on. That and my sister is there,” Harry said, letting out a chuckle._

_“You came all this way to get me?” She asked, looking at him like she was the human embodiment of the heart-eyes emoji._

_“I want to hang out with you… outside of school,” he told her._

_“You do?” She choked out._

_“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” He asked, letting out a laugh._

_Because you’re proper gorgeous! Because you could have any girl you want! Because you’re way out of my league,_ _she thought._

_“I dunno,” she said, biting her lip as she watched him._

_“Do you wanna… do you wanna come with me?” Harry asked, looking a bit bashful._

_“With you?” She choked out._

_“Yeah,” he said with a little nod._

_“Y-yeah. I mean, yeah. Of course,” she stammered, knowing she might sound a bit too eager, but she didn’t care. Harry freaking Styles was at her window asking her to sneak out with him. Holy hell!_

_“Get dressed. Or don’t,” Harry said, bouncing his eyebrows suggestively at her._

_“Oh!” She laughed, swatting playfully at him._

_“Get dressed and meet me in your drive,” he told her as he made a move to climb back down her roof._

_“Harry!” She said in a loud whisper._

_“Hmm?” He hummed, looking back at her._

_“Be careful,” she told him and he sent her a wide smile. The last thing she needed was him to break his neck right as her life just started getting good.  
_

__  


After spending another hour nervously worrying whether her mother or sister would bring up his wife as the four of them sat in the living room drinking tea and talking, Emma was almost grateful when Harry said he should be going because he still needed to stop at his mum’s house to pick up Haven.

After Harry said goodnight to her mother and sister, Emma walked him out to his truck. She wanted him to know she was happy he came over, but she couldn’t really think of the right words to say. All she kept thinking about was the night they spent together and subsequently how she spent the rest of the night breaking down over it.

“Listen, Em…” Harry started.

“ _Hmm_ …” Emma hummed, looking up at him.

“I’m sorry about… about what happened when you were, you know, at my flat,” Harry said, looking apologetic. Emma’s entire body froze. She hadn’t expected him to be thinking about it too.

“ _Oh_ …” She breathed, looking down at the ground.

“You weren’t ready. I shouldn’t’ve…” He began to explain.

“It’s okay. Honestly, you have nothing to apologize for. I feel like… like maybe… I don’t know,” Emma said, unable to even finish the thought.

“What?” Harry asked, quirking his eyebrow at her.

“Nothing,” she said, waving her hand through the air.

“ _Emmy_ ,” Harry warned, sending her a stern look, causing her to bite back a smile and shake her head.

“You feel like, what?” Harry asked her.

“I don’t know – that it might have been a good thing that it happened,” she told him quietly, feeling her stomach turn as she admitted it.

“Yeah?”

“I mean… yeah. At least for me anyway,” she said, feeling a bit awkward.

“It was good,” Harry confirmed, nodding his head with a ghost of a smile haunting his lips. Emma couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“It _was_ good,” she agreed, thinking about how connected she felt to him.

She did her best to not think of Patrick as she thought about the drunken night she slept with Harry, and surprisingly she was able to ward off his memory for a few unadulterated moments.

“I’m sorry I was so awkward at dinner,” Harry said softly, changing the subject.

“Oh, no. No, I mean, _I_ was awkward. You were great,” Emma told him honestly.

“I don’t… I’m not… I don’t do well when Hannah is brought up,” Harry stammered and Emma could see the anguish in his eyes.

“I know. I’m so sorry. Piper… you know Piper. She doesn’t have a filter and wouldn’t know what tact was if it smacked her across the face… which, to be honest, was what I wanted to do to her tonight. You know, smack her across the face,” Emma explained. Harry let out a small laugh and Emma couldn’t help but smile back.

“Nah, it’s not Piper’s fault. It’s just… hard,” he said quietly, looking out over the neighborhood.

“I know,” Emma said, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah. You know,” Harry said, looking into her eyes.

Emma bit at her lip watching him watch her and she couldn’t help but feel the electricity shoot up her spine as he leaned in. Her breathing shudder just as his lips pressed to hers and she felt a satiating peace wrap around her. When his mouth moved against hers, she felt like the whole entire world just fell away and it was just the two of them. Like they were the last two people in existence and they were made for each other. Like they were meant to be in that moment, they were meant to be there.

Harry’s hands came up to gently cradle her face as their mouths opened to one another’s. Emma wanted to relish completely in the moment, but in the back of her mind, she couldn’t stop thinking about how they were standing in the middle of the drive, snogging like teenagers. And suddenly, it wasn’t just the two of them in existence. The world was back and their problems were ever-present and Emma knew it wasn’t the best idea to be so reckless.

She slowly pulled away as her hand patted his chest gently. Harry looked almost defeated as she took a step back.

“ _Emmy_ ,” Harry breathed as Emma lifted her fingers up to touch her battered lips.

“I think…” Emma started to say, but the thought extinguished itself.

“I don’t know if you comprehend the level of… of… of admiration, or _adoration_ I have for you, Emma,” Harry stammered, sounding as if he were about to unleash a confession on her that she knew she was not prepared for or equipped to handle.

“Harry,” Emma breathed.

“I-I put you so high, _so high_ , up on a pedestal all those years. I dreamt of a reality that did not exist between us. And honestly, I think I lost myself when I lost you,” Harry began to explain.

“Harry,” Emma whimpered as tears welled in her eyes.

“And I felt you long after – you never really left me,” Harry said, pressing his hand against his chest, right above his heart.

“ _Please_ ,” Emma whimpered as her first tears fell.

“I loved you _so_ much, Emma. And I think I went a bit mad when you went away. But I know… I can’t blame you and I don’t want to punish you for it. You did what was best for you and I know that. Nothing can last forever,” Harry explained.

Emma couldn’t even breathe as the tears choked her. Her heart felt so tight and so battered that she was sure she would feel it for days.

“I don’t say this to put a burden on you, Emma. I just, I want to be honest. I want you to know how I feel. I do not blame you for leaving. And I know you feel quite a bit of guilt over it, which is probably why you stayed away all those years. But I just want you to know that you can let it go. Let that stigma of remorse and shame just… just wash away. It’s not worth it to hold onto it. I don’t want you to look at me and feel weighed down with guilt. I want us to start over – however you want. If you want me to be your friend, I can be your friend. Just, just please, Emma. I’m… I’ve been entombed in this grief for far too long. I just… I need to feel something else. I need some sort of relief, some sort of solace,” Harry explained.

Emma’s face was buried in her hands as she cried and Harry carefully pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her.

“Please don’t cry, Emmy,” Harry breathed against her ear, which only heightened the tears.

“I’m here for you. I’ll always be here,” Harry cooed.

“I’m sorry,” Emma murmured against Harry’s chest.

“I know you are,” Harry said, squeezing her a little bit tighter in his arms.

“I never… I never stopped caring…” Emma said as she finally pulled back from his arms, looking up into his eyes.

“I know,” Harry said, reaching out to gently swipe the pads of his thumbs underneath her eyes, wiping the tears away.

“I always meant to come home…” She said, wiping at her eyes as her vision fell away from his.

“I… _gahhh_ , I need to stop. It just sounds like I’m making excuses. I’m so… _ugh_ ,” Emma said, feeling self-deprecating because she deserved it. She deserved to hate herself over it.

“Don’t. Emma, don’t,” Harry told her carefully.

“You say I should let go of the guilt, Harry, but I… I can’t. I don’t know how. On one hand I have you – beautiful, perfect you. And… and on the other hand I have this gut-wrenching, heart-breaking, mind-numbing, life-ruining ache in my heart because of what I did to beautiful, perfect you. You were the best boyfriend, Harry. You were the _best_. And I… I gave that all up. And I left you and didn’t look back. I was selfish and there isn’t anything I can do about it now,” she cried, her tears never letting up.

“Emmy,” Harry breathed.

“And now we’re here. We’re here and we’re broken, seemingly beyond repair. We’re broken…” Emma said as the emotion got the best of her again and cut off her words.

“We _are_ broken, Emmy. But we can be put back together. We may not be the same people we used to be, we might be missing a few pieces when all is said and done, but we’re not beyond repair,” Harry told her.

“I want to believe that,” she told him.

“We’re lucky, you know,” Harry told her and she couldn’t help but send him an odd look. How on earth could he think they were lucky?

“Think of all the people in the group. Think of the bloke who lost his wife to suicide, or the woman whose husband drown. We have something they don’t have,” Harry told her.

“What?” She asked.

“Each other,” he told her and it caused goosebumps to prickle on her flesh.

“We can help each other. You’ve already helped me so much, Emmy,” he told her, his words so incredibly honest.

“Yeah…” She breathed as she wiped at her eyes.

“Yeah,” he told her. She looked up at him and sent him the best smile she could, because she wanted him to know what it meant to her, what _he_ meant to her.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling her into another hug.

He held her for longer than a hug might normally last, but it was so incredibly comforting and Emma almost felt lost when he finally pulled away.

“I should be going,” Harry told her.

“Yeah. Haven…” Emma said, knowing he needed to pick up his daughter.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, still watching her contently.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Harry offered with a small smile.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe I’ll have you ‘round for dinner this time. Me and Haven…” Harry offered with a smile.

“I’d like that,” Emma told him as a bashful smile turned up her lips.

“Okay. I’ll see you, Emmy,” Harry said, leaning in to leave a kiss on her cheek.

“Goodnight, Harry,” she said softly as he opened the driver side door on his truck and slipped inside.

He waved to her once he was in the street and she watched as he drove off, his taillights fading into the distance. She took a deep breath and let it out hard before going back inside. She knew she wouldn’t get much sleep that night because their conversation would be going through her mind like a record stuck on a loop.


	10. The tale of a melancholy girl

At 6pm sharp, Harry was standing in her mother’s foyer, waiting to bring the two of them to therapy. He looked so handsome, his long hair cascading down, his curls spiraling against his shoulders. And somehow, even after all these years, he still continued to swipe his hair to the right like when they were kids. It was like it was a habit ingrained in his brain forever.

He was wearing tan Chelsea boots, black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. He was so attractive, Emma could hardly keep her eyes off of him. When she came down the steps, Harry was chatting with her mother, who was telling him a story about how just two years ago, when re-doing the roof, her late-husband, Emma’s father, found the frisbee Harry managed to throw onto it back when they were fifteen. Harry’s deep laugh echoed through her ears and it caused goosebumps on her skin.

“Emmy, hey,” Harry said, focusing on her once he realized she was there.

His smile fell immediately and it was replaced with a look of fondness mixed with a bit of concern as he scanned her face. He always seemed to look at her like that these days - the concern, the worry, the pain. It was as if he was trying to find ways to protect her from herself, from her grief.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, letting a small smile turn up his lips.

“Um, yeah. I think so,” she said, blowing out a breath as she reached for her coat from the hook by the door. She quickly put it on, buttoning it up before she grabbed her purse.

“Goodbye, my beautiful girl,” Emma said, leaning over to kiss Maddie, who was in her grandmother’s arms.

Maddie let out a happy shriek and tried to grab at Emma’s face. The three of them laughed and Emma cooed at Maddie before kissing her again.

“She loves you,” Harry pointed out.

“She definitely does,” her mother agreed.

Madeline’s attention fell to Harry after he spoke, staring at him for a few moments before she held out her arms for him.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Emma breathed, looking at her daughter wide-eyed. She was in complete and utter shock as her heart beat heavily and happily in her chest.

“Well, hello, little love,” Harry cooed as he gently grabbed the baby out of her grandmother’s arms.

Madeline reached up, putting her hands on Harry’s face and he babbled at her, his mouth moving her hands as he did. She let out another happy screech, causing them all to laugh again.

Emma was speechless. Besides the time Harry fed Madeline and put her to bed, this was really the only true interaction she had with a man since she was born. Madeline’s father and maternal grandad had both died before she was even born and they hadn’t seen any of Patrick’s family since her birth. They had pretty much lived in a bubble since moving back to Holmes Chapel.

“Well, she really likes you, now doesn’t she?” Jeanette laughed, watching Harry and Maddie together.

“Well, I really like you too, Miss Madeline,” Harry cooed at the baby.

Honestly, Emma could stand there all night watching Harry with her daughter. It brought on so many warm feelings. But the tears threatening to fall were quite the hindrance.

She cleared her throat and Harry looked up at her immediately.

“I suppose we should go,” he said, looking a little bit taken aback.

“Yeah,” Emma said quietly.

“You be safe out there, okay,” her mother said as she took Madeline from Harry, causing the baby to let out a whimper as she wrenched her body around so she could see Harry.

“Get out of here before she starts screaming,” Jeanette laughed, waving them off.

Harry chuckled as he opened the door and walked out after saying goodnight.

“Bye, baby,” Emma said, kissing Maddie again before saying goodbye to her mum.

“He’s good,” her mum whispered to Emma, giving her a knowing look.

“He always has been,” Emma replied, sending her a soft smile.

Emma followed Harry out. And once again, he opened the passenger door for her, letting her in before he walked around to get in the driver seat.

“I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” Harry said once they were on their way to the church.

“What? No,” she said, shaking her head as she looked over at him.

“You just seemed…” Harry began before trailing off the words.

“I was just thinking about how Maddie’s never really been around any men before,” Emma confessed.

“What? Really?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Really. I mean, you know… Patrick… and all,” Emma stammered out.

“Of course,” he said quietly, nodding his head.

“And my dad died last year,” she reminded him.

“Yeah. I was really sorry to hear. Your dad was a good man. He was funny. Always knew how to make me laugh,” Harry chuckled.

“He was and he did,” Emma agreed, smiling brightly, thinking back on how it used to be.

“What about Patrick’s family?” Harry inquired a moment later.

“ _Hmm?”_ Emma hummed, looking up at him, her brows knit together in question.

“They don’t see Madeline?” Harry elaborated.

“Um. They haven’t seen her since she was born. His entire family lives in Northern Ireland,” she explained.

“Patrick was Irish?” Harry asked with a smile.

“He was,” she said, nodding.

“I have a best mate who’s Irish. Funny lad. _Hilarious_ ,” Harry said.

“I swear, the wit of an Irishman…” Emma snickered under her breath. Patrick sure knew how to make her laugh.

“Us wee British boys are quite comical too,” Harry pointed out in a terrible Irish accent, smirking over at her.

“That you are,” Emma breathed out a laugh. Yes, Harry knew how to make her laugh too. She used to get side aches laughing with him.

“That we are,” Harry chuckled as he pulled into the church parking lot before parking and cutting the engine.

“Are you ready for this?” He asked, looking at her through the cab of the truck.

“No. But I mean, we’re here,” she said, looking out at the holy building looming in front of them.

There was a new face in the group that night, which just meant there was another surviving widow and children in the world with a broken family. The woman shared gruesome details about her husband’s suicide, having shot himself at his office and how the janitorial staff found him in the morning. She was in shambles as she spoke about him, but no one comforted her. It was all so macabre. Emma didn’t know how much she was actually benefiting from the therapy sessions. It just seemed to pile on other people’s grief on top of her own. The only good thing that came out of it was Harry. She no longer felt like she was walking around with a shattered soul. His reappearance and presence in her life was more comforting than any group therapy session.

“I just want to remind everyone that there is no wrong way to grieve. Yours may look different from the person sitting next to you. Some people isolate until they are able to wrap their head around what has happened. Some people need constant support from friends and family. Some find that sharing their grief helps alleviate some of it, whereas others may not feel comfortable sharing - or in fact, may never want to talk about it. And that is okay. Grief is a natural process and it’s all relative,” their counselor Chris explained as he stood in front of the group.

As Chris continued to talk, Emma’s mind wandered, thinking about how she’d been going to therapy with Harry for almost two months now and she still didn’t know what happened to his wife. And she was slowly realizing she may never know. He might be someone who never talks about his grief and she would have to be okay with that.

“Well, that was depressing,” Harry said as the two of them walked out of the church together once the meeting was over.

“I’ll say. I may not be flourishing in life right now, but my depression and anxiety sure are,” Emma said, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.

“No kidding,” Harry snickered as he dug his hands into his jacket pockets to shield them from the cold.

“I don’t know how much more I can take. It’s all so… so _tragic_ ,” she told him.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly.

“It’s like, at what point is it hindering more than helping? I feel like every tragic story gets harder and harder to hear. And I feel like it’s just piggybacking off of my own grief now,” she began to explain.

“You always were so _cripplingly_ empathetic,” Harry said, smirking over at her.

“It’s hard not to be. I don’t know how to stop,” she sighed, actually beginning to worry about it.

“It just means that you have a big heart. One of the biggest I’ve ever known,” Harry said, smiling over at her.

“I doubt that,” she said quietly as the guilt of leaving him years ago weighed on her. _Where was her big heart then? How could he be so forgiving?_ She just wished there was a way to make it up to him somehow, but she wasn’t sure she ever could.

“Emmy,” Harry sighed as he stopped in his tracks, grabbing her hand before he tugged her to his chest.

His arms wrapped around her tightly and he held her like that for well over a minute before releasing her. She felt her whole body begin to relax.

“I’ve heard that long hugs can be therapeutic,” Harry said, referring to something Chris taught the group the week before about the power of touch during the healing process. Emma couldn’t help but smile at him.

“At least you’re getting something out of it,” she quipped as she took a step back from him.

“I think you were the one benefiting,” Harry chuckled as he dug out his keys from his pocket. The two of them continued to walk to his truck, Harry opening the passenger door for her once again.

The drive back to her house was nearly silent. The only sound was the radio quietly serenading them through the speakers. When Harry pulled up into the drive, he cut the engine and sat there, looking out the windshield for a few moments as she watched him.

“Um, do you want to come over for dinner… like, sometime soon?” He asked, finally looking over at her.

“Dinner?” She questioned, the word falling off her tongue before she really thought about what he said.

“Yeah,” he said, looking a little bit anxious as he waited for her reply.

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice,” she said finally with a nod of her head.

“Yeah?” He questioned with a relieved smile.

“Yeah,” she repeated, breathing out a laugh.

“How about… does tomorrow night work for you?” He asked as his smile faded into a tiny smirk at the edge of his mouth.

“Tomorrow night works,” she said, smiling back at him.

It wasn’t like she had any plans. Her calendar would look pretty depressing if she kept one. **_Morning:_** _wake up, feed Madeline, feed yourself, cry._ ** _Midday:_** _keep yourself busy to avoid feelings of crushing despair, feed Madeline, feed yourself, take depression nap, cry._ ** _Evening:_** _try not to wither into a blubbering mess in bed, feed Madeline, feed yourself, cry yourself to sleep._

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

“I’d really like you to meet Haven, if that’s okay,” Harry told her, looking apprehensive again.

“I’d love to meet her, Harry,” Emma told him with a wide smile. She couldn’t help but think it was a massive step in the right direction for him.

“Yeah?” He questioned happily.

“Of course,” she chuckled.

A tiny human that was made up of 50% of Harry’s DNA? She couldn’t _wait_ to meet her - to see just how much of her traits she got from her daddy. Did she have his mischievous personality? His lightning-fast wit? His sense of humor? His compassion? His ability to love even in the worst of circumstances?

“Great. That’s great, Emmy,” Harry said, taking a deep breath before letting it out.

“Were you nervous to ask me?” She questioned, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, maybe. A little,” he said, smirking bashfully at her. She couldn’t help the wide smile on her face.

“That’s cute. You’re cute, Harry,” she said, reaching over to poke at his dimple like she used to. He gently swatted her hand away and let out a shy chuckle.

“I feel like we’re fifteen again,” she giggled, biting at her lip as she watched the bashfulness in his entire aura.

“Sometimes I wish we were,” he said, looking over at her, his smile fading off his face.

“Me too,” she said, just above a whisper.

“Life was easier,” he commented and all she could do was hang her head and nod.

“See. _Fuck._ It always ends up like this,” he chuckled, causing her to look up at him.

“Like what?” She asked.

“Fucking sad. We’re fucking sad. It’s terrible,” he laughed and she couldn’t help but laugh too.

“We are fucking sad,” she chuckled.

He took another deep breath and let it out hard.

“At least now I have something to look forward to other than picking you up once a week to go sit in some shitty depressing meeting,” he told her.

“It’s nice… having something to look forward to,” she said with a nod.

“Yeah.”

“You know, we could… we could hang out, you know, other times too,” she offered and it was her turn to feel bashful.

“Yeah?” He questioned as his smirk snuck back on his face.

“Yeah. I mean, we’re friends. And it’s been really nice having, you know, a slightly bigger support system then just my mum and Piper,” she chuckled, nervously picking at her thumb, instead of looking up at him.

“Yeah. It is nice,” he breathed and she looked up at him, their eyes connecting immediately.

There was a long weighted silence as they stared at each other and she nearly jumped as Harry began to speak again.

“I never got over you, Emmy,” he told her.

“ _Harry_ ,” she whispered. She had a feeling the conversation was going to get more involved than she was prepared for.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he told her. She never stopped thinking about him either, even when the guilt kept her up at night.

“I’m really glad you’re back in my life, even though we’re _fucking sad_ ,” he chuckled and she couldn’t help but snicker.

“At least we’re ‘ _fucking sad’_ together. At least we’re trying,” she replied.

“Yeah,” he said, breathing out a laugh.

“This is me trying,” she added, plastering a smile on her face.

He breathed out a laugh and smiled at her for a few moments until his smile fell flat once again, as if all the muscles in his face were working against him. His eyes still watched her, like they were silently interrogating her soul. At least it felt like it.

When he leaned in, gently slipping his hand onto her cheek, she let out a shuddered breath. He pressed his lips against hers a moment later and it sent a shiver up her spine, making her brain tingle in the process. She kissed him back after a few beats and let Harry open his mouth to hers, sliding their tongues together. Now she really _did_ feel like they were fifteen again. Except back then they had to find more unconventional places to make out, because neither of them could drive.

When he pulled back, he was still watching her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?” He said a moment later.

“ _Ahem_. Yeah,” she said, clearing the lump from her throat.

“Great. Seven o’clock?” He questioned.

“Seven works,” she said with a nod.

“Alright. I’ll see you then,” he said, smiling widely at her.

“Yeah. See you,” she said, smiling back before pushing the door open and slipping out without another word.


End file.
